Riding tricycles and swimming.
Bicycling madly on Chicago streets.
Ah, dear Lord, life was deliciously sweet!
Christmas time glowed in Elmwood Park.
That huge white flocked tree.
We all are here, but lost our fun-loving, Brucie!
Cheering for the Bears at great Soldier's Field,
Or the times at Cubs Park?
At night on swings in the warm, starry dark.
KiddieLand and Riverview, too.
The laughter and the endless joys.
We were truly good little girls and boys.
Now on my inner journey to a most blessed past.
The ongoing wonder of growing up to achieve.
But most significantly, we were taught to believe!
If a gardenia could only speak of our fragrant young days...
I am only here to tell you, I love you.
And each one, an invaluable soul,in my view!
Love and Merry Memories!
~ Cousin P ~
12-22-2020
A tribute to all my cousins.
Merry Christmas
Holiday Hugs
Brooklyn Cyclone number nine
Is not ready to decline
Clipity clop it climbs
Into the blue sky where the sun shines
Until it turns orange while enjoying evening wine
There is magic in the air
Summer loving with the one who cares
Flashing lights all around
Tradition of a rural community fairground
Instead this is on an island
Architectural feats worth admiring
Outside the big city
That never accepted any pity
National League remembers the past
Mets audition potential players to cast
As all the cotton candy melts
Everyone with a hot dog can’t tighten their belts
In the middle to a season
Enjoying weather supposedly pleasing
Where relaxation is the reason
Cousin Brucie
Has rocking facts that are juicy
About that Palisades Park
That was a long trip for the late Dick Clark
Brooklyn Cyclone number nine
Takes the big drop right on time
Screams are heard
By the flying birds
Down on the beach
Where NYC is in reach
On the death of Bruce Forsyth, British entertainer
The Forsyth saga is now gone
strictly come dancing the whole night long
You played cards right with Anthea, your girl,
So we played it at home and gave it a twirl.
Living in NEW YORK CITY and going to tar beach
For most NEW YORKERS this was a treat.
Taking your beach chairs, towels, and blankets
And a radio to the roof.
Some would come up with shirts and pants
As the roofers began to dance.
Listening to ALLEN FREED, COUSIN BRUCIE, and DICK CLARK
And seeing the treetops in the park.
We did not need to go to concerts downtown
All you had to do was look around.
We would lie on the blankets taking in the sun
Or dancing to the music and having lots of fun.
We would gather as groups and start to harmonize
With every roof joining in – it is easy to visualize.
A crescendo of voices floating in the air
With people looking out their windows
And their voices they would share.
A water hose connected to an apartment below
Where we could cool off and water balloons to throw.
You could take your suburbs, your farms and little towns
But nothing to compare to the NEW YORK CITY sounds.
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