JOY WILSON  
___________________
(Not being exact 'bout date nor fact ---  I’ll call it ’57)

Ducktails   --  Drive-ins  --  dancing "At The Hop"
But at the age of 13 - my dancing
was usually with Mom’s old mop.

Rebel times of teenage youth --  mores twisted as with a Stillson.
These words are not about those times
they’re about -- Joy Wilson!

Her brother coached our baseball team, that hot and muggy year.
My heart fluttered, and stopped!
when first she did appear.

In the blink of an eye - I wanted to jump and shout
One glance at Joy Wilson;
Told me what life was about!

Joy was the most beautiful thing, I had ever seen!
Far out of reach - this beauty was
as she was probably eighteen.

At the plate to get my hit, I’d catch her glancing smile.
Strike!   I’d hear as the bat would swing- -
I had missed it by a mile!!

I’d stand on the mound - look and pace - dry my sweaty hands.
My pitch would go low, and into the dirt,
as I'd catch her face in the stands.

Joy never noticed me, nor knew my wanton ways,
but life blossomed like the morning flower
those hot and muggy days.

With little ado, in natural course, those days came to an end
but Joy had set the pattern to seek,
my lifelong partner and friend.

About those days and times gone by, no reason to fret nor moan!
I love you Joy Wilson - for all you did!
I hold you each day as my own.

Barnum Taylor © 1997