I visited my youth last night and strolled through long ago,
Through a world strangely familiar, where the pace of life was slow,
Where people passing often smiled and passed the time of day,
And neighbors were folks that you knew, unlike those of to-day.
The clinking of the bottles as the milkman made his rounds
And the clip-clop of his horse’s hooves that followed him around
With hardly a word spoken to aid Dobbin on his route
As he plods from one stop to the next, his knowledge absolute!
The butcher shop of yesterday with sawdust on the floor
And the butcher summoned by the bell that hung above his door.
Good morning, Mrs.Smith, he’d beam! His business was his fame,
..For each patron was special and he knew each one by name!
The red and white diagonals that marked the barber’s shop
Where fifty cents would get you ‘just a little off the top’!
The groups of boys on corners all intent on their duelling.
Not with switchblade knives or bullets, but with chestnuts on a string
Our modern world is wonderful, but something has been lost
When a medication’s price bears no relation to its cost!
One cannot help but take one’s thoughts back to an older time
When life was based on better things than just ‘the bottom line’!