The Good Old Dates

Call me on a phone,
that hangs on a wall,
ringing with real bells.

There's love songs,
on a wooden radio,
without dirty words.

I'll wear something,
called a "dress",
with a pretty hat.

We'll have Coke floats,
and California Burgers,
under neon lights.

Walk me to my door,
steal a single kiss,
then call it a night.

And then I'll dream,
of you and me,
and the Good Old Dates

by Kimarie Manhart-Freeman