79: The Golden Summer, 1953, by Daniel Nathan (Frederic Dannay,* 1905–82)
I loved this book—how could I not?
I read the hero’s name—was caught
So easily. Yes, Danny was
His name. I loved that name because …
Oh, please! You surely can relate!
A character so named is bait
For fishy readers; I was hooked—
Or, better, I was really “booked.”
My parents bought it for me when
I was a boy. And (way) back then
I didn’t read a lot. But here
I found a story, very dear.
A boy. A summer. Danny. Wow!
It all seemed like my life somehow.
The tricks he played—his friends and foes—
But—slowly, slowly—Danny grows.
I read it more than once, I’ll say.
(I wished to read it every day.)
And then I lost it (in a move?),
And life went on—a different groove.
An older man, I wished it back.
(You never know what you will lack.)
I found a copy—searched online.
And it arrived: condition—fine.
I read it fast—such memories kept—
And at the end I guess I wept.
Why else were my eyes red and wet?
I must have cried (let’s take a bet!).
I read of Danny with such joy—
For once again, I was a boy.
*co-author of nearly 40 Ellery Queen novels; I didn’t know this until
years later
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