As a boy was
Not as fond
Of the scorching sun…
Lurking in trees,
That was more
Where I found my fun

In those days…
Even in the midst of
A suburban locale
Wooded land remained…
We claimed a tall oak,
Our tree house on high

Boards nailed upward
On the trunk…our ladder
To the sky…twenty feet up
Scraps of lumber from
The many houses built
Provided our floor

I wasn’t supposed to tell,
But Dad supplied the nails
As long as we didn’t fall,
I suppose he didn’t mind
The dream to live aloft…
It’ll never leave, I’m sure

© 2016 Robert Mihaly



  1. bbeyes4 · July 12, 2016

    Great story Robert! What a wonderful visual!!

    Liked by 1 person

    • artifiswords · July 12, 2016

      Thank you, Suzanne. It’s all true. I just left out some names to protect the guilty…of course I’m sure the statute of limitations ran out decades ago on stealing nails. 😉

      Liked by 1 person

  2. wildthing4049 · July 17, 2016

    Ahhhh … Tree houses … always wanted one when I was little … my mother said no … little girls did not have tree houses! She said it was hard enough keeping me out of the trees! Hahahahahahahahaha Great write Robert!!!!

    Liked by 1 person

    • artifiswords · July 17, 2016

      Thank you, Shelly. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with me now…out of my tree?

      Liked by 1 person

      • wildthing4049 · July 18, 2016

        I’m beginning to think we are never too old for tree houses!!!!

        Liked by 1 person

      • artifiswords · July 18, 2016

        Nope…they rent them to ecotourists in Costa Rica…would love that. 😉


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