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Poem

Today as I sauntered 'mongst the relics in the antique store,
My gaze was directed to an old Philco radio standing on the floor.
As I caressed its somewhat scratched and dappled finish,
Pleasant memories flooded my soul that I pray will never diminish!

'Twas like the one we had on the Hoosier farm when I was a boy.
'Twas our sole source of entertainment that brought us so much joy!
Gazing upon that long-silent token, I could not help but ponder,
Whose parlor it might have graced away back yonder.

Like me, did kids sprawl upon the floor rapt with attentive ear,
Listening to adventures we could only imagine in yesteryear?
Supper waited 'til we heard The Lone Ranger or Orphan Annie,
The antics of Fibber McGee and Molly or Rochester and Jack Benny!

Like me, did teenagers listen dreamy-eyed to The Hit Parade,
As Sinatra, Crosby or Como crooned a romantic serenade?
Did they dance with a broom to music of the Dorsey brothers,
Much to the bewilderment of their long-suffering mothers?

Did it air Morrison's account of the Hindenburg's disintegration,
Or Orson Welle's "War of the Worlds" that panicked the nation?
What joy there must've been as it aired the end of World War Two.
I lingered for a time, recalling vivid memories passing in review!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)

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