Zechin Of Time Poem by Christine K. Trease

Bobby socks and poodle skirts, chewing gum and skateboards,
the soda fountain malted, a two-strawed creme delight,
unlocked doors and picnics, rocking on the front porch,
'What happened to the good old days? ' a question that is trite.

The fullest moons imagined that came from Indian Summer,
viewed with buttered popcorn at the drive in picture show,
a time when fear was absent, when helping out a stranger-
you'd give a lift to someone that you didn't even know.

Salesman vending door to door, peddlers that were welcome,
mail order catalogs (used for more than shopping) ,
therapeutic haircuts, not needed, but desired,
triple cherried sundaes, baseball cards for swapping.

Tapping to the juke box, blaring at Pop's Soda Shop,
Sipping Hires root beer floats that nearly reached the sky,
gingham in the summer, wool plaid in the winter,
bobby socks and poodle skirts, a time when life was right.