Sitting quiet stretching limbs,
Squirming anxious proud and trim,
Waiting for this class to end,
Another day at Vigor.
 
When the final bell goes off,
The halls erupt with glee,
Running for the parking lot,
Teens once again set free.
 
Piling into V-8 rods,
With glass-pak pipes aloud,
Revving-up and burning-out,
To please a captive crowd.
 
Racing to the Kreame Bar’s lot,
To get a burger hot,
Shove nickels in the jukebox,
To hear the music rock,
 
Poodle-skirts and pony-tails,
With petticoats a’fly,
Dancing to the snappy tunes,
Hearts soaring to the sky.
 
Duck-tailed hair with water-falls,
Are combed with scented oil,
Stove-pipe jeans with heavy starch,
The cuffs rolled in a coil.
 
Wolfing down your burger, quick,
And sipping Cherry-Coke,
Waiting for your favorite song,
To play before you croak.
 
 You watch the little dance floor,
To grab an open spot,
Ready by the counter stools,
To get your chance to “Bop.”
 
Dancing to the 45’s,
Of Elvis, Fats and Gene,
Knowing that your special girl,
Would wear your High School ring.
 
Boundless-life with dream filled days,
Within our hearts did blend,
We truly couldn’t see a point,
That blaze would ever end.
 
Looking back upon the times,
Those sparkling days of old,
With genteel hearts we visit,
Our dreams and legends told.
 
Vividly the scenes pour out,
Those crimson days of yore,
Thrills we’ll never live again,
Upon that distant shore.
 
In our teen-years’ slice of life,
Oh, how the hormones raged,
That secret place for young love,
Our time to come of age.
 
But in our wine-rich mem’ries,
When tableau’d scenes unfold,
For one time ‘round the life-clock,
Those days were made of gold.
 
© Guy C. Diehl, III
September, 2009
For the 50th reunion - 2010
Reproduced here with permission.