254 - When rain, and pain, and strain again goes on

When rain, and pain, and strain again goes on,
The tonic is demonic sonic joy:
Enthusiastic plastic music spun;
Some fine ole vinyl finally employed.
Discs, decades displayed, dissuaded, annoyed,
By CDs, DVDs, developing
Machines; that means, by any means, destroyed
Must be our records, I reckon, wrecking
Those long lost listens, misty, glistening
In memory, ephemeral, then gone,
Like miles of smiles at each child’s wild new toy,
Besotted, now forgot, fetid, rotting.
Oh no, I own a phono, so no-one
Must take or break my discs. Mistake, old boy!
Wed 16 May 2007