Vinyl

From the past.

Photo by Kevin McCutcheon on Unsplash

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

Then I slip another from a silky sleeve, more vinyl 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 moving to the beat, it feels so neat The atmosphere is groovy.

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 the following day 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 2026

Thank you for reading this piece and my poetry.