THOSE DAYS

Sunny days, hazy rays,
Bring together the good old days.
Back when times were a joy to behold,
We got out of bed and the dreams would unfold.

Running and climbing, we got out the best,
there was no time for moaning or having a rest.
Our play-day was our day, we put our parents to the test,
Till darkness fell over, we would come home a mess.

All that jumping through puddles and climbing those trees,
Our good clothes all torn, our skin stung by bees.
But we didn't care much for the day was alive,
And our hears were all thumping with incredible drive.

It was so long ago now it is hard to remember,
We did it for years from January through December.
If only now we had a ration of that thrill,
We would live till a hundred and never get ill.