He dreamed he was in an old soda fountain
back in the good old day’s fifties
drinking a vanilla cola.
Girls wearing bobby socks sat on stools near him
talking about fifties music.
And the temperature of the times was
so much cooler than today. And the weather
was so much sunnier.
The dream was so good he wanted to
stay there forever.
He would have if he had met a girl named Peggy Sue,
but he woke up disappointed instead.
Bob Boyd
Author: BobBoyd
79, cancer survivor, work out 3 times a week, ride my exercise bike 2 hours daily. Began writing poetry October 2023, living in Greensboro, North Carolina, originally from just outside of Boston, MA.
Retired and enjoying a solo, reclusive life always researching and gaining knowledge. Most of my poems are fictional.
I write about many things: Spirituality, Mysticism, the Paranormal, Cryptids, Werewolves, Ghosts, 411s, Nature, Birds, Animals, Romantic Love, Death, NDEs, Women Persecuted as Witches, Fictional Characters I Create, News Stories, AI, Robots, Insects, like the poem entitled, Hail Caesar Bob, (about when bees were swarming me outside the door to my apartment), and many other topics. I write a minimum of 3 poems daily, sometimes more. I like and abide by the saying life's too short to be taken too seriously.
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