Warm beds within walls made of knotty pine,
Under dark covers, with a flashlight that’s mine.
Crystal radios, like small rocket ships are
Our links to the world, and a faraway star.
Erector sets were the toys of our day,
On a Western Flyer in the snow we would play.
Hot chocolate to warm in a cold winter breeze,
A milk box outside, on a cold day would freeze.
And Easter Peeps colored, like a rainbow that grows,
A fish tank and shipwreck with bubbles that flow.
And electric trains track round a Christmas tree,
And a powerful telescope, Saturn’s rings we can see.
Then off in the Summer night we would go,
To sleep in the park, Oh what fun we did know.
In our sleeping bags watching the stars all night,
With comic book collections, and ghost stories of fright.
To the woods and a tarzan swing we would ride.
Into blackberry briars, making tunnels to hide.
The memories, sounds, the sights and the smells,
Are recalled of my youth, in the poems that I tell.
1/26/05
Gary Bryson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/boys-growing-up-in-the-1950-s/
