Peppermint Sticks

Bluebird house for rent






Dad brought pink peppermint home in a sack
and gave it to my sis, Yvonne, and me,
each time he made his monthly trip to town.
My sis and I would race each other down
to meet our dad each time that he came back.
Yvonne school-hopped on past the white lilac.
She was the first to reach Dad– she was three
and I was only two years more than she.
Two sacks he held within his weathered hand.
We smiled and thought that he was simply grand.
He parked his Model T beside the fence,
then gave our mom a hug without pretense
and she was happy with cake flour he bought
but candy was the best thing that he brought.

© 2014,  Freeda Baker Nichols

10 comments on “Peppermint Sticks

  1. I could visualize the scene! Sweet!


  2. 1belinda says:

    This is a really good poem, Freeda. I love the rhythm in 10 syllables per line and none of it is forced.


  3. spunkonastick says:

    A slice of life – perfect way to describe it. A simpler time when things were appreciated.


  4. Ginger Kemp Pruett says:



  5. Catherine Johnson says:

    Lovely slice of life, Freeda!


    • Thank you. My search for a photo of two little sisters did not locate what I wanted. So hopefully my words will be enough. I have a black and white photo of Yvonne and me but I decided not to display it this time.


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