I Remember Sasaparilla Summers

I remember sarsaparilla summers, now so far away.                     
The chatter of the cardinals and noisy blue jays.
I loved sipping sarsaparillas at my kinfolks’ places.
 Eating fried chicken, playing hopscotch and pony-cart races.

 Oh, for sarsaparilla summers, I miss them good, old ways.
My mind travels back often to the good, old days.
Blades of golden wheat gently swaying in the breeze,
Warm, sultry winds whistling through the cottonwood trees.

 Watching movies at the drive-in was a midsummer’s treat.
 Popcorn, hotdogs, and cheese pizza to eat.
We’d all pile in the car, set off to the Madison Moonlite.
Eating ice cream and cotton candy, drinking ice-cold Sprite..

I remember, wild plums and blackberries, Uncle’s sweet cherry wine
Mama’s Sunday dinners, O’ how fine we’d dine!
There was pies and jam making, my favorite peach cobbler.
Running from the neighbor’s mean, ole turkey gobbler.

Grandpa would rave up our rickety, old car.                                                                 It had some busted pipes so we couldn’t go far.
Drives out in the country and picnics, too.
Pitching the baseball and playing horseshoe.

Memories of biting mosquitoes and pesky dog fleas,
wading in the creek beds up to our knees.
We’d love to go back there, just one more time.
When life was so peaceful, and times were sublime.

Now sarsaparilla summers come once every blue moon.
Those sarsaparilla summers …..gone much too soon.