In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Ode to a Playground.”
A place from your past or childhood, one that you’re fond of, is destroyed. Write it a memorial.
My hometown was a playground itself but my favorite place was my grandmother’s garden. It was beautiful and was always spring.
There were a lot of animals free in the lot. Birds that sung really beautiful melodies and I remember, how they used to sip from the flowers’ nectar. How wonderful it was just to lay in the swing we had and where ever I turn my head there is just something to admire.
The fruit trees I used to climb as I child and sometimes, I just usually eat up in the branch. There were times I even fell asleep and got scolded because of it.
The green yard I used to ran to and fro ; the fishpond where I put my feet when I don’t have anything else to do.
That was the playground I missed so much.
My grandmother’s house was so beautiful and it is still now but different, the yard was replaced by garage and the garden had no trees in it. The fishpond is still there but not as big as before now that I’ve grown up.
There’s always a child in all of us and that will never change. We may have grown taller but our hearts never get old. The memories will always be fresh and even though it’s been gone a long time ago – nostalgia will always come in.