Back in the days of yore
Before my front yard had a tree
It was a place to fly a kite;
Fly it as high as could be.

If the wind was really right
Like on a nice March day
The neighbor kids would come
With their kites and play.

I suppose it was a silly sight
All those little kids and me
Doing battle in the air
And laughing with great glee.

At first my kite was just like
The ones the kids flew.
Bought ot the store or made
From paper, sticks & glue.

But then they got too good
At knocking me from the air.
I had to do something better -
Something with a bit of flair.

So nylon was what I bought
And some dowel sticks.
With these I made a 3 foot kite
To show the kids some tricks.

Oh, amazed they really were
But soon would no longer play.
It was no fun for them
To be knocked down each day.

So I flew my big kite by myself.
On those windy days.
Sometime from after breakfast
Until the last sun’s rays.

It was fun to fly my kite
Almost all the way to heaven.
I would have got there, too.
Except for a low flying 707!

jhs