Posts Tagged ‘Frank and Joe’


Like sleeper, from a hammock, rude removed from resting place,
I soon was seeking solace in a soothing shaded grace,
An old continued pastime that would comfort in my change
As I returned to my hometown from years upon the range.

Along the street I parked my car, that bright December day
And up the steps I slowly went, a snail, unsure the way
For memory did not connect the steps with aging feet;
What lay inside before my goal – a meeting room, a suite?

Ah, yes! There was a difference, and more I did not know;
Two workers now, a desk was changed, computer all aglow;
And still the place, besides the new, had feel of antique, old –
The walls were pillared and the floors had tales that could be told.

Before the books, just like the brooks, there was a bridge – a card.
So, up to worker’s desk I went, as if she were a guard.
I told her what I needed – just a key to reading’s door.
And she replied, “Have you, with us, e’er had a card before?”

   When I was lad, my summers were
       A time from town retreating,
   To parents’ farm ten miles away –
       Cows mooing and sheep bleating.

   I lived there almost like a monk,
       Away from friends I cherished;
   No next-door neighbor like in town –
       My social life near perished.        

   I found another set of friends;
       They came each time invited.
   I felt as honored as if I’d
       Been called to court and knighted.

   And so my summer days were filled –
       Companions and adventure.
   They came those days; they quickly left,
       Like teachers without tenure.

   With Nancy Drew, I looked by lake
       For clue of broken locket.*
   We searched an attic old as dust
       For songs played out of pocket.**

   The Hardy boys came some days
       Both Frank and Joe – detectives.
   Of course, we all were given help
       By their Dad’s wise directives.            

     Some summer days were twice the fun
       And more than twice – twice doubled
     For Flossie, Freddie, Bert, and Nan
       Were Bobbsey twins that bubbled.

     And then some days I left the farm
       (My parents didn’t know it).
     The time machine sat by my bed
       Into the past, I rode it.

     To Tuskegee and Carver’s lab,
       I flew, launched by the pages;
    And with Von Braun, I moved toward space
       And gazed at rocket’s gauges.       

     I looked, while perched on Bunker Hill
         And saw the redcoats coming
     As thick as ants to claim a mound,
         An army marched by drumming.

   I saw defeat at Waterloo,
         With Lindbergh crossed the ocean;
     With Alexander, conquered worlds,
         With leopard’s swiftest motion.

I’m back. You asked about a card. My old one’s thrown away.
I used it for so long and oft, was worn out like cliché.
I did; I had one here; I doubt it’s in your records though –
Unless you have the registers for fifty years ago.


* ND   The Clue of the Broken Locket, 1934

** ND   The Secret in the Old Attic, 1944


The photo is mine, of Carnegie Library in Ballinger, Texas.


© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.


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