The Old Tire Swing

Never once, did I imagine,
What a  joy it would bring
When I hung an old tire,
To make an old "Tire Swing".

All of my grandchildren,
Played with great delight,
From their first rising,
On late into the night.

Their joy, displayed in laughter,
And songs that they had learned.
Others waited, impatiently,
Asking, "When is it my turn?"

Then they'd climb upon it,
And shout with boisterous glee.
How could I refuse their call,
"Swing me, granddaddy, swing me !"

The tire cost me nothing.
The rope was also free,
And God our loving Father,
Provided a very special tree.

Those moments, I'll cherish forever,
For the pleasures that they bring.
I hope that your grand children
Will have their "Old Tire Swing".

By Grady L. Duncan
To read more of Grady's poetry
click on his name.

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