A red brick heart, a cobblestone
soul,
Meandering arteries and
veins,
A backbone of good
hardwood,
And lungs of pink,
unstained.
Clear, clean skies that
tantalize,
A crystal blue
display,
Twinkling stars like
eyes at night,
That hide away in the
day..
Fingers reach out to the
country,
They shyly beckon and
seduce,
They lead to farmers' roadside
stands,
Selling veggies and fresh
fruits.
There's a rhythm to a small
town,
A slow, care-free, easy
beat,
All day long it plays its
song,
Then at night lulls folks
to sleep.
Bees buzz, and crickets
chirp,
Old pick-up trucks shift
gears,
Tiny songbirds can be
heard,
And small baby's coos and
tears.
Train whistles blow both day and
night,
As trains chug by the city
hall,
The Local stops there twice a
day,
The Express doesn't stop at
all.
No throughways nor
freeways,
No Interstate through
town,
Just quiet, simple,
byways,
One barely hears a sound.
Small towns always wake at
dawn,
Because they sleep so well at
night,
Lullabied by nightingales,
Then waked by roosters at first
light.
Not much variety,
Little change from day to day,
Small town dullness stays the same,
Never seems to go away.
The small town - a place of calm.
From the beginning to the end,
Room to stretch - room to spread,
Unlike piggies in a pen.
All one language and one tongue,
Folks speak easily to each other.
But petty tiffs sometimes cause rifts,
Between ever loving brothers.
No matter where one is ... or isn't,
There's lots of room to spare,
And of the people who are near,
Most likely someone cares.
God and Satan do compete,
Though Satan seldom wins,
Small town folks know better,
They thumb their nose at him.
Relatives and family,
Busybodies, lovers, friends,
Living with each other
Knowing how to make amends.
The stillness and the quietness,
The boredom, the routine,
Anything and everything,
Either dies or is redeemed.
One can't escape the small town,
Even when one packs and leaves,
It is embedded in one's guts,
Like a lingering disease.
Ah, the small town - the sleepy small town,
A place to love and hate, you know,
People dream one day to leave it,
But it will never let them go.
Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
ŠApril 2005