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Richard Lee Orey

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Books by Richard Lee Orey
  Flappers & Speakeasies
by Richard Lee Orey
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Rated "G" by the Author.

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           >> View all 56

Come with me to a bygone era

                                                       My mother was a flapper, and I was born during Prohibition
                                                       in the United States.  Of course, that gives me no credential
                                                       for writing this piece except for my own amusement and to
                                                       bring a little sunshine into your life by sharing with you this
                                                       fictional memory of a bygone era.  Enjoy!


               Flappers &

                                                                         The sun sank slow as I waited so queasy                                                                       
                                                                         For nightfall, Molly and our Speakeasy 
                                                                         My Model T Ford was polished and sharp
                                                                         Beautiful black with a covering tarp

                                                                         Molly was gorgeous in her short red skirt

                                                                         Stirring my loins, enticing my flirt

                                                                         Showing shadows of thighs and lovely bare knees

                                                                         Fringe-hemmed bottom fit to please


                                                                         Exciting my heart with plans to hatch

                                                                         In her red hairband with feathers to match

                                                                         Long string of pearls and stockings meshblack

                                                                         Groovy, my man, queen over jack


                                                                         In my new blue suit and the best of hats

                                                                         My shiny black shoes covered with spats

                                                                         A stiff white shirt and red-patterned tie

                                                                         I looked so good, I made her cry


                                                                         Speakeasies were hot in Prohibition,

                                                                         Lots of beer and little nutrition

                                                                         There was no drinking, according to law

                                                                         But everyone got drunk and acted raw


                                                                         The talk-thru opened, one eye I could see

                                                                         Which prompted my classic, “Joe sent me.”

                                                                         A hundred diners all in great duds

                                                                         Steak and champagne and lots of suds


                                                                         We had a few beers and clapped our hand

                                                                         Costumed dancers and Billy’s Flash Band

                                                                         All too soon, it was nothing but fun

                                                                         The Peabody, Quickstep and Charleston


                                                                         We started at nine and left before two

                                                                         Right after we downed one last brew

                                                                         To Back Room Romp, we stomped alive

                                                                         ‘Cause the Feds wouldn’t raid till two thirty-five


                                                                          Owners and Feds all got ahead

                                                                          Bribes and politicos in the same bed

                                                                          Owners got word way in advance

                                                                          So we could all stay and enjoy the dance


                                                                          Speaking easy and sneaking a brew

                                                                          Ah, the good old days of twenty-two skidoo

                                                                          In thirty-three the sneaks went out

                                                                          As “wet” came in with lots of shout


                                                                          But Molly and me still do our thing

                                                                          Adapted to time with a new fling

                                                                          Have a houseful of kids and a new car now

                                                                          Sit quiet at night but still know how


                                                                          The memory’s not gone and dull like a haze

                                                                          We still miss the good ol’ days

                                                                          But Molly and me, we do our thing

                                                                          I like to dance, she likes to sing


                                                                          Our secret’s at night when we slip into bed

                                                                          She flaps at me and whispers, “Instead.”

                                                                          She wears a feather instead of a gown

                                                                          And I get still get to take Molly down


                                                                          Miss the good ol’ days?  Not on your life.

                                                                          I married the flapper and cuddle my wife!

                                                                          Richard Lee Orey
                                                                          Copyright 2009


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Reviewed by Victoria's Poetry & Voices of Muse 8/2/2009
this is so sweet & shiver me timbers...does she still have the feather? I have a new point of view with my feather duster now....
I love the dresses! I Love the style! I Loved You Poem
Love & Inspirations
Reviewed by Christine Alwin 7/29/2009 have me dancing to your words..this is full of charm and brings back an era to life as I read this....soooo adorable!
Reviewed by Regis Auffray 7/10/2009
Great stuff, Richard. I love the rhythm and the way you have recreated that particular time and space. Love and peace,

Reviewed by Michelle Mead 2/8/2009
LOVE IT!! Always wish I was a flapper :)
Reviewed by Aberjhani 2/5/2009
The scandalous-roaring-fun-time-loving Jazz Age was one like no other and FLAPPERS & SPEAKEASIES brings it rocking and rolling back to splendid life. Who knew one could have so much fun just by clicking on a title by Richard Lee Orey :-)

Reviewed by John Domino 2/4/2009
Wow! You made the "Roaring 20's" come alive!

You must of heard stories from your mom & dad.

Reviewed by Edwin Hurdle 1/31/2009
An excellent and well written poem,take care

Reviewed by Lynda Nilus (Reader) 1/30/2009
Was it really that grand? Wish I was there.
A thoroughly enjoyable reading!
Reviewed by Carole Mathys 1/29/2009
What a unique era that was, my mom was a this piece Richard, I wrote one about this interesting time in history called the Roaring Twenties a couple of years ago...great write!

Reviewed by J'nia Fowler 1/29/2009
I don't know now it it is from the exact era now but this piece put me in mind of a few old movies,Great Gadsby, Bugsy, Bonney and Clide. to list a few. Very well done I think. Enjoyed it through to the end.
Blessings, J'nia
Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan 1/29/2009
this is fantastic! love it!
Reviewed by Liana Margiva 1/29/2009
VERY NICE POEM!!!!!!!!!!! I LIKE IT A LOT!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva
Reviewed by Sage Sweetwater 1/28/2009
The cat's pajamas, Richard! Thank the Flappers which did away with corsets and pantaloons in favor of "step-in" panties...era of the kiss-proof lipstick, and for good reason! Too bad it didn't survive the hardships of the Wall Street Crash and the Great Depression, but Coco Chanel is here to stay...Norma Talmadge and Clara Bow we thank you...snugglepup, petting parties...and barney-mugging! The Charleston, the Shimmey, the Bunny Hug and Black Bottom...a wonderful period of liberalism, Flappers & Speakeasies...

Reviewed by Sandie May Angel-Joyce 1/28/2009
Wow!!! Richard, what an eye-opener this poem is!!! I really like the rhythm of this poem, it flows so well when read, and it's all so much fun. I wish I were there too!!!

Sandie Angel :o)
Reviewed by Kimmy Van Kooten 1/28/2009
Wow! What a nice trip down a lane, of which I have heard of such memories... from my DAD! Now how OLD do you feel! HA!
This was such a great pen, Richard...even I could relate...well sorta! :)

Loved it!
Love and Peace~
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