Priveleged Life

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

This poem is a reflection on a nuance of the title, "priveleged life" and attests to the rich fabric of my childhood in a northern town in Canada in the 1950's.

Privileged Life
O yes I've led a privileged life
A childhood with not just worldly things
But subtleties not quite acknowledged.
Which richness to my life it brings.
My town in North Ontario Railroad.
Railroad junction, paper mills.
Gateway to the West they called us.
The night with tooting railcars filled.
And there beyond the glistening shoreline.
The Sleeping Giant gentle lay,
The natives say he would awaken
When White Man packs up and goes away.
Current River- just a suburb.
Of war-time houses built for vets.
Bristling with smiling working folks
Constructing Canada with their smiles and sweats.
And I ensconced within the rhythm of
My family lovingly together
A working dad brought home the bacon
Moms presence home in every weather.
Women had not yet been tainted
With the thought that motherhood
Did not deserve the full attention.
That such devotion was for the children's good.
And there was Inky my first dog.
A Wire-haired Scottish Terrier pup.
I loved him when he first appeared.
He played with me as I grew up.
The potato patch right there beside us
In winter turned to mirror glass.
With crisp turns, shouts and shinny played.
Those long cold winter's quickly passed.
I’dride my bicycle from school.
Mom’s soup a thing I took for granted.
But family life a fertile bed.
In which my universe was planted.
And there where Marion Street did end.
The greatest playground of them all.
Boulevard Lake a glistening sea
We swam from early spring till fall.
Then in winter frozen clean.
A full mile clear across the lake
We rushed to fly upon its surface
A bee-line over Boulevard
A skimming we would puff and skate.
So yes, I was so very privileged
With skating rink, and pup and Lake.
A family that stayed together
How for granted all that I did take.
But now I see the privilege.
That I was born unto.
A magic childhood filled with love.
And a thousand things to play and do.
O yes I've led a privileged life
A childhood with not just worldly things
But subtleties of simple substance
What richness to my life it brings.
What richness to my life it brings!

Submitted: February 21, 2008

© Copyright 2021 Vaulter. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



Simplicity brings great joy, your not on that treadmill

Thu, February 21st, 2008 8:05pm


Now, this is the kind of life I wish my childhood was. But now that I lost that to "The Man", I guess its just a fantasy now.

Anyway, this, I like.

Sun, March 2nd, 2008 8:08pm


Wow! I loved your poem...So true; my life was
like that...we are so lucky. Maybe if more of
us write our stories we can teach others.
Kind regards

Tue, March 24th, 2009 2:02pm

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