Those Boyhood Times

By Jim Hagarty

I remember thinking,
When my friend and I were boys,
That this would last forever,
Outside playing with our toys.

What could ever happen
To bring this to an end?
Such was the boyhood bond between
Me and my closest friend.

But time and life have sent us both
Down two divergent lanes.
And though we still communicate
It’s never quite the same.

He has his wife and family
And troubles, just like me.
I hardly ever see him
I miss him, don’t you see.

Those summers when we played outside
With all our favourite toys
Were special times that now are gone
Between two kindred boys.

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.