Vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry days
till a honey haired man with seas and skies and dungarees in his eyes
stepped up to my cash register and instead of ordering ice cream ordered me.
author unknown ( just can't remember who)
I thought of this poem from my teen age years today. It just came to my mind from the past after years of not thinking of it. Something that sounded so romantic to me as a teenage girl who had worked all summer behind an ice cream counter. So today I'm posting a woman's poem. One I wrote for my 50th birthday.Enjoy!