10-29-2016, 12:59 AM
Perhaps the season has long since past for this poem to be relevant, but I think it shows a bit of promise. With a bit of revision and tinkering, it should turn out just fine. Also, I haven't been to the forum for a while, so I am a bit rusty.
How I love to hear the song
Of the passing ice-cream truck-
Vending all its frozen treats
In the sweltered summer muck.
It seems to echo languidly
Through our quiet little street.
The drowsiness would melt us all,
Before we had our treat!
But now some different songs begin
And our little street surround,
As the youth of our fair neighborhood,
Cry and shriek and sound.
O! How I love to hear the children,
with crumpled bills in hand,
Of this joyous vendor-
Their sweets they quick demand.
And as they come about their prey,
Their laughs- they fill the air!
And fill our quiet neighborhood
With a child’s thoughts and cares.
So every day of every June,
In the swelter of the afternoon,
We dance and sing the merry tune
Of the passing ice-cream truck.
How I love to hear the song
Of the passing ice-cream truck-
Vending all its frozen treats
In the sweltered summer muck.
It seems to echo languidly
Through our quiet little street.
The drowsiness would melt us all,
Before we had our treat!
But now some different songs begin
And our little street surround,
As the youth of our fair neighborhood,
Cry and shriek and sound.
O! How I love to hear the children,
with crumpled bills in hand,
Of this joyous vendor-
Their sweets they quick demand.
And as they come about their prey,
Their laughs- they fill the air!
And fill our quiet neighborhood
With a child’s thoughts and cares.
So every day of every June,
In the swelter of the afternoon,
We dance and sing the merry tune
Of the passing ice-cream truck.