Bill Maceachern Poet Rhyme

Saturday Night Surf

Saturday Night Surf

We use to Surf
On Saturday nights
The Surf Ballroom 
Up a thousand flights

Didn’t Hang Ten
But did Tighten Up
Did the Funky Chicken
And built up buttercup

Blue suede shoes
Silk stripe pants
Looking like peacocks 
Ready to dance

We had Utopia 
The Pilgrims 
Rockin’ Ramrods too

When The Technique’s
Played Shotgun
All understood 

This would be our last dance
So do it now
And do it good 

By:Bill MacEachern
03/29/2021

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Darlene De Beaulieu March 29, 2021 at 3:35 PM Hello Bill, oh- sounds like you had lots of fun. Enjoyed this poem. Enjoy your evening my friend. Darlene De Beaulieu March 31, 2021 at 11:30 AM Hello Bill, everyone needs a place to escape from stress. Happy Easter my friend. Bill Maceachern March 29, 2021 at 4:00 PM Thank you Darlene, yes, was a very special place n time in my life, was an escape so needed