A FLOWER CHILD

On my way to Frisco
in the Sixties
with my acoustic guitar
and acrostic puzzles
in the back
of my Mack truck
hearing the lyrical song
about flowers in her hair
which stops me
from my reading
the poetry of Baudelaire
meeting her outside the library
in our flight of several stairs
as she almost fell
in her Cinderella high heels
to give her a rebel yell
a signal that all is clear
from her father,
a real big shot around here,
giving her an extra
a peanut butter sandwich
on a croissant
and gum balls
she needing a ride out West
for an audition as a model
in a fashion show
she was a great guest
whom we got along,
everything was proper
and exemplary
until a cop tried to stop her
from her ambitions
on the last rotary
for her father contacted him
on his short wave
telling her to behave
and say the rosary
as he was a daily celebrant
and a communicant,
anyway we made it
and she became famous
in Life, Look, Time, Vogue
and she even got me
a short part in a T.V. comedy
and as a pirate rogue
for the rose bowl pageant.