—
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.
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* ND The Clue of the Broken Locket, 1934
** ND The Secret in the Old Attic, 1944
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The photo is mine, of Carnegie Library in Ballinger, Texas.
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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.
The Bard on the Hill 