I sometimes think back
Through the years,
Of crystal sets
And burning ears.

The early days
Of radio,
My hobby
Always on the go.

Winding coils
And stringing wire,
I’d struggle hard
To hang it higher.

Then listen for
The slightest sound
Of any station
To be found.

My little room,
I must confess
Was full of wire,
Oh what a mess,

But I, a most
Untidy boy
Found crystal sets
To be a joy.

George Savige

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/crystal-sets/