A prisoner for punishment

Right down to the core

I softly drop a needle
onto the spinning disc
and release the music
sounds I often miss.

Then I slip another, from its silky sleeve,
more vinyls from the past,
spin on my record player,
to make the memories last.

I have some Buddy Holly,
Chubby Checker too,
and the Big Bopper
make a great hullabaloo.

And a range of records
to keep my feet a movin’
to the beat, it feels so neat
the atmosphere is groovin’.

It’s a blast from the past
let’s swing across the floor
I’ll sweep you off your feet
I couldn’t ask for more.

We’ll stay warm till the dawn,
twist, turn and rock and roll,
a little of the boogaloo,
then finish with the stroll.

And when the party’s over
I’ll shimmy off to bed
only to wake next morning
and feel that I’m half dead.

I danced all night and in spite
of my wooden leg
I’m an old 60’s rocker
ready to lay an egg.

I hopped up and I hobbled
though tonight there will be more
I’m a prisoner for punishment
right down to the core.

My O my if pigs could fly
or if I wasn’t blind
it’s a blow and I know
it’s only in my mind!

©

David Rudder
19th August 2020

Thanks for reading.