Days of Ice Cream Vans and Other Childhood Food Dreams

Walking down the memory lane,
I skirt the realm of edible art.
Where the sights, smells and tastes reign.
A place I long with all my heart.

I skirt the realm of edible art,
it stems from early ice cream days.
A place I long with all my heart,
back when I liked mayonnaise.

It stems from early ice cream days,
love for cuisines from nations I’ve never seen.
Back when I liked mayonnaise,
when boxed food beat anything green.

Love for cuisines from nations I’ve never seen,
where the sights, smells and tastes reign.
When boxed food beat anything green.
Walking down the memory lane.

~AJ

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Death By The Ice Cream

The bells that sound, they sound of death,
the truck, it hits the tarmac square,
see children shriek and run amok,
the man inside puts out his smoke,
I know it’s time to move away,
lest sly desire overrules,
then a brief glimpse of swirling ice,
and now my heart, its skips a beat,
I can’t tell what happened hence but,
the wretched world was joyous once more

~AJ