Dreams of Long Ago

By Carrie E. Joslin 

 

When my work for the day is ended
     And my darlings are all asleep,
I sit alone by my fireside
     And sometimes I softly weep

And smetimes, I find myself laughing
     And sometimes I softly sigh.
As memory comes back to me
     Of the dear old days gone by.

Tonight, I am dreaming, dear Hettie
     Of the joys we used to know,
Of the days we spent together
     When we loved each other so.

There were days that were sad and dreary
     And days that were filled with pain,
But some of those days were such happy days
     I would gladly live those again.

If only again I could cross the road
     To the house that you call home,
And feel as happy as I felt then,
     When I found you all alone.

If only again we could wander
     Along those winding ways
That led to the dear old swimming hole
     As we did in other days.

If only again we could feel the thrill
     That we felt in the long ago
When we played in the sparkling water
     Where the willow boughs hung low.

The past holds many memories
     That to me are more precious than gold;
And one of my heart's own treasures
     Is the memory of the old swimming hole.

©circa late 1950's Carrie E. Joslin
Written to her friend Hettie Caldwell,
daughter of the Methodistpastor who
lived across the street from
the Bullard residence.

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