I haven’t reproduced a poem in a while. Yes, they are late 19th, early 20th century and have the hokieness that implies, but that’s when going barefoot was appreciated and, dare I say, yearned for.
So, here’s another.
This poem is “Barefoot Days” by O. Lawrence Hawthorne, published in 1926.
From a window of my study
I can see four little men
Playing in a pool of water,
And my heart cries out again
For the artless days of childhood—
For the good old barefoot days,
When a boy assumes dominion
Over all that he surveys.Barefoot days, when laws and customs
And conventions are unknown;
Barefoot days, when every fellow
Has a program all his own!
Simple are the toys and pleasures
That our little ones demand,
But how dearly they would prize them
Could they only understand!There’s a glorious abandon
In whatever children do—
Every happy moment offers
Something wonderful and new.
Yet, it seems we all must travel
Manhood’s formal, vexing ways
To appreciate the freedom
And the fun of barefoot days.
Reminds me of lyrics by Neil Peart:
Lakeside Park, willows in the breeze
Lakeside Park, so many memories
Laughing rides, midway lights
Shining stars on summer nights
Days of barefoot freedom
Racing with the waves
Nights of starlit secrets
Crackling driftwood flames
Drinking by the lighthouse
Smoking on the pier
Still we saw the magic
Was fading every year
It’s a shame so many people think “barefoot freedom” is only for children.
Ok Bob. When are you going to write this book? You know, “The History of Going Barefoot”, or “Social and Cultural Attitudes Toward Bare Feet Through Time”, or whatever title you may come up with, which will be far more clever than that, I’m sure. The world NEEDS this book. There is no easily accessible place on the web or anywhere that you can find so many facts and historical proof and experiences all in one place. Those of us who remember the 1960s and 1970s are not getting younger, most younger people are completely unaware that people ever went barefoot in public, and no one teaches this stuff in history class. Blogs do not last forever, information gets lost, and we need both a paper and digital reference in all it’s detail for future generations to use as a factual reference. This way all this will be in one place, easily used to debunk ignorance and misconceptions. And people like Paul Cardwell, who are older (and wiser) than most of us here, can add information of what he saw during the 1940s and 1950s as well. Before that generation is gone, we need to interview some of them before it is too late and that information is lost.
Beach Bum: I’m glad to see that I am part of the living archive, soon to leave. I must be deteriorating since, at 80, I am only a summertime barefooter (has something to do with thin skin and circulation). Still, I think I could contribute something even back into the ’30s. I was particularly interested in Bob’s comments about the prevention of hookworm being sanitation rather than shoes, as I remember that boogyman being used against natural feet in the “hookworm boob belt”. I would push it back one more stage and say the breakthrough was the Rural Electrification Administration, which enabled farms to have electric pumps and a reliable water source, rather than hand pumps and buckets. Although predominantly urban, the nation still owes a debt to Sam Rayburn (whose house is three miles from mine) and Brook Hays of not too distant Arkansas for the enabling legislation.
[…] (1893), When I was a barefoot rover (1897), Goin’ Barefoot (1905), Barefoot Days (1907), Barefoot Days (1926). Le plus connu de tous est peut-être The Barefoot Boy (1855) par John Greenleaf Whittier. […]