Packing Treasures: Amazing Poetry

So if you've been reading my blog the past few days, you know that I'm at my parents' home in upstate New York, helping them pack up a lifetime worth of stuff to get ready to move to Tennessee. I have found a lot of treasures, as I mentioned a couple of days ago. What I'm about to share with you ranks right up there in the top finds.

The year: 1977. If you were between the ages of 8 and 18 in 1977, you must have been well aware of teen heart throbs, Parker Stevenson and Shaun Cassidy, the Hardy Boys themselves. If you were a girl, you may have had their Tiger Beat pull-out posters taped on your bedroom wall, right next to Leif Garrett and Robbie Benson. We all did.

But I have something even more special; I have actual poems in my actual diary that I wrote to honor Parker and Shaun—a tribute that has lasted 30 years. After reading this poems, I'm sure you'll agree that I was right in pursuing a degree in creative writing.

Parker

Whose eyes light up like a 4th of July sparker?
Parker.
Whose hair is brown or a little bit darker?
Parker.
Whose a little bit chubby but he'd make a good hubby?
Parker.
Who do I dream of at night when out goes the light?
Parker.
Who's the man of my dreams? By all means:
Parker.



Shaun

Whose shy and as gentle as a fawn?
Shaun.
Who would you kiss at the break of dawn?
Shaun.
Who got good legs, not like barrel kegs?
Shaun.
Who just the right size, if you don't realize?
Shaun.
Who do you love, who's as gentle as a dove?
Shaun.

I was eleven when I wrote those masterpieces. My daughter, who is about to turn 11, giggled adorably when I read those to her, and she did proclaim that she thought I was a great writer. Obviously I was well on my way.

(Images from Stuck in the 70s.)