Tuning into Yesterday, Mellow Touch 94 Point 7 FM
The static hiss, a prelude soft and low,
Before the velvet voice began to flow.
Ninety-four point seven, a beacon in the night,
Guiding our young hearts with its gentle light.
The eighties hummed with neon's vibrant gleam,
But in the airwaves, a more tranquil dream.
Mellow Touch unfolded smooth and so slow,
Where whispered melodies began to grow.
Remember Sunday mornings lazy and serene,
The coffee brewing, a nostalgic scene.
That saxophone's sweet sigh, a lover's tender plea,
Woven with lyrics meant for only me.
The power ballads tinged with sweet despair,
The slow dance anthems hanging in the air.
Bryan Adams' yearning, Lionel's soft embrace,
Each song a moment held within that space.
We taped our favorites, fingers poised to seize
Those precious moments carried on the breeze.
A tangled cassette, a treasure to behold,
Stories in the grooves more precious than pure gold.
The DJs' voices calm and ever kind,
A soothing presence for a restless mind.
No jarring shouts, no frantic, hurried pace,
Just gentle tones that found their rightful place.
Through teenage angst and loves that came and went,
That mellow soundtrack, heaven-sent.
A comforting companion steady and so true,
Ninety-four point seven seeing us through.
The crackle fades, the airwaves shift and change,
But in my memory, that soft familiar range
Still plays its tunes, a bittersweet refrain,
The Mellow Touch of eighties, whispering again.
In Subic's' humid air, those melodies reside,
A nostalgic comfort nowhere left to hide.
Ninety-four point seven, a memory so clear,
The soundtrack of our youth held ever so dear.
©bfa040925
Copyright ©
Bernard F. Asuncion
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