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.