Looking for mitts, to play in the snow.
The crisp smell of winter, the humid fresh air
Into the old car, to meet buddies there.
Down to the lake at Victoria Park
Oh how we loved to skate round in the dark.
From the central loud speaker the music would blare
Couples would skate arm in arm without care.
Mom wondering if I'd ever skate without falling.
Dad driven to teach in spite of my bawling.
An old wooden chair, with the seat long gone
Would be my balance till I could glide on my own.
Round and round the flagpole I'd go
Sometimes to stop I'd collapse in the snow.
Those quite daring would play crack the whip
Teens holding tightly, not willing to slip.
But me, a little one, chair gripped firm
Would shuffle along tenacious to learn.
Nose running, sweaty, to the boathouse we'd go
Hot chocolate in a paper cups, cheeks aglow.
Back to the car, energy waning
But regarding the skating, there'd be no complaining.
Next night at supper, our nagging would start,
Please, please, please can we go back to the Park?
|The Park Today...no more skating.|