Monkeys in My Tree

I came across this ancient poem last night, written long ago when two of my nephews were climbing the tree in our front yard. That was nearly twenty-five years ago and now they are more like … well, gorillas. However, these dusty old words bring back that moment so vividly to my mind’s eye. We had so much family fun together when they were growing up. This poem also serves as a reminder of simpler times and youthful adventure. When was the last time I climbed a tree? Far too long ago. And now there are actually grandchildren playing in the trees around our house. Life seems to cycle like that, and perhaps the only thing that changes is me. Maybe we should climb some trees this weekend.

Monkeys in My Tree
Today, our game is climbing trees
A couple of monkeys and I
Just like a pair of chimpanzees
Under the blue May sky
How the branches quake and bend
As up the monkeys go
I wish that it should never end
As I watch from the grass below
What better on Saturday afternoon
Just as happy as you please
Alas, they grow up far too soon
Those monkeys in my trees
               By Frank Carpenter ©