December 29, 2008
Childhood is the hot, sticky midsummer nights,
Spent drowned in laughter,
And the welcoming chirp of crickets.

Childhood is the carnival when it comes to town,
The bright Ferris wheel lights,
And the sweet, colorful snow cones.

Childhood is staring out your window,
Waiting for day to turn to night,
And for winters to melt into springs.

Childhood is counting the stars in the sky,
You could until a million-bazillion
And then you pick the shiniest one to make a wish on.

Childhood is Santa’s letters,
The little red envelope addressed to the “North Pole,”
And baking cookies and leaving cookies on Christmas Eve.

Childhood is promises and secrets,
Pinky-swears and the zipping of the lips,
Swearing to never tell a living soul.

Childhood is when there’s only today,
There is no tomorrow,
And there was no yesterday.

Childhood is jumping off swings,
The flying sensation you get when you’re in the air,
And the thump when you crash onto the ground.

Childhood is warm beach sand between your toes,
Looking for seashells and jumping fish,
Smelling the barbeque air.

Childhood is sleepovers,
Watching movies, eating popcorn,
Drinking soda, and planning each other’s weddings.

Childhood is never wasted never forgotten,
The innocence we look back on each day and laugh about,
It is the laughter and the joy that fills our lives,
And the memory of never growing old,
That shall remain forever.

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