At First
Days were not over half so soon
when we ate passion with a spoon.
Swirled chocolate at the Frosty Freeze
melting in the prairie breeze
hot and redolent of soil—
chaff of wheat and rattled coil.
Summer days and summer nights,
rolls in grass and water fights
with uncoiled hoses, cooking pans,
rolled up cuffs and soaked white Vans.
Passion then was not so much
a thing of kissing or of touch
as of smells and sights and taste.
Baking beans and paper paste.
Brand new tablets, pencil shavings.
Summer nights, then autumn cravings.
Cattle lowing, school bells,
Cool spring water from deep wells.
Throats that ached from drinking it,
brought to light from ancient pit.
All these simple remembered things
that thinking about passion brings:
spin-overs on the monkey bars,
rides on bikes and naming stars.
It’s true some passion rides on night
with pressing lips and gentle bite,
or trembles on the fingertips
straying over breasts or hips.
Yet simpler loves bring lesser rations
of what adults consider passions.
Words like passion must be allowed
to be unfettered, like a cloud
and not confined in connotation,
dictionary or denotation.
Sometimes passion can be bright—
A meadowlark or soaring kite.
Sun-chapped lips just touched with mist
long before they’re ever kissed.
The prompt word today was “Passionate.”
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
Beautiful and amazing. Passion comes in many forms.
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Thanks, Val. Those images probably resound with you as well. I know the Frosty Freeze ones will with Mary!!!
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Your first two lines define childhood so well they need to become wall words. To see them in print every day we could remember there did exist a time when our days were longer, sweeter… like confection.
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Beautifully said, Denny.
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Yes, your words were!!!
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There is a seasonal “Frosty Freeze” in Christina Lake, a small town on Highway 3 in B.C. Ohh … really nice poem. Evokes some lovely images. Cheers Jamie
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I just love your poetry!
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Ah yes the Frosty. I could make the perfect swirled cone with a little twirl on top. Great poem Judy and I always love the photograghs
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Did you recognize Lynn Brost?
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I do now!
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I have a couple of pictures just like that. Different place, but we could all be the same kids.
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beautiful words…. is that you in the picture….
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Yes. I am the blonde girl. The other girl is Lynn, my best friend when I was little.
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