I remember the bright melodies of it's chimes
as kids hollered "Hey, mom got some nickels or dimes!"
and that white knight on wheels, decal plastered, drove slowly
bringing sweet icy treats thirsty children found holy.
In lopsided runs with coins clenched in their hands
they came gazing at pictures and yelled thier demands,
"Gimmee popsicles or an orange pushup!" they'd scream,
as their cash went Clink-Clank in his coin-change machine.
Then he'd turn to that door with the big metal latch,
icy mists from it poured as he opened the hatch,
Each child's eyes grew as sharp as a prowling young fox is,
as he reached deep inside and he rustled those boxes.
Then he'd pull out a brightly wraped treat-on-a-stick
that was grabbed and was gone like the kid, oh, so quick,
to the shade of a tree where they'd soon meditate,
on the sugary taste of that ice cream they'd ate.
Soon that white knight into Summer's heat lumbered on
leaving pleasurable chills in the places it'd gone.