"Well, She Was Just Seventeen..."

I heard that line and presto!
It was 1962.
This band was great, but who they were,
I didn’t have a clue.

My room was painted pink;
My AM radio was on.
Before I got the lyrics down,
The song had come and gone.

But soon enough those pale pink walls
Were filled with Beatle faces.
I close my eyes and conjure up
Those pictures in their places.

What happened to that fresh-faced girl
Whose future lay ahead?
A song can bring me back to her,
Connected by a thread.

Some melodies are magical,
Transporting us, so fast,
To the time those tunes were new,
A moment never meant to last.

And hearing such a song we fall
Enchanted, back to when
We didn’t know we’d never be
That younger self again.

“I saw her standing there” for me
Performed its magic trick.
I see myself at twelve but wonder
Just what made me tick.