Sticks Of Ciggys and Ice Cream

Once a child upon a hill,

I craved for my weekly weekend fill,

Of ices and of rich sweet cream,

For the sound of ice-cream truck... I'd beam.

My favourite was called the Limey Brick,

It was one of those that came on sticks,

"One Limey", I'd yell out to Bob.

The ice-cream man, the town's heartthrob.

"Here ya go, son", he'd mutter,

Coz of his ciggy, he could barely utter,

And like a dragon he'd puff his stick,

While he handed me my Limey Brick.

Since then, I too have come to know,

What fascinated me so long ago,

And now two instead of one,

Indulgences have I under the sun.

And every weekend aft a few sticks,

I'd have my lovely Limey Brick.

***

I am in no way encouraging the habit of smoking. I just wrote the poem to suit the photos I took.