My Poetry. The Ice cream van.

Jingles heard from afar
as he drives into our street—
a magical vehicle on four wheels,
racing to give us a treat.

Ice cream so delicious,
and change to buy a sweet;
those days were so spectacular,
nothing could you beat!
Shouting up to Mum
to get a couple of pence;
the din was overpowering,
even standing on the fence.

The world was your oyster
as you chose your favourite ice cream;
this little van of wonders
was a child's lasting dream.
Sometimes we had enough
to buy a sweet or two;
contented and happy were those days,
and your mates were happy too.

He came around our street
twenty times a day,
but your parents were often dubious
to give their money away.
Money was tighter then,
but the luxuries were sometimes had;
it stretched a little further,
even getting money from your Dad!
The jingle could be heard for miles
as you ran to greet the man,
with treasures overspilling
from the little musical van.

© William Sinclair Manson 2025