In a tiny little town
That is "out of the way"
I found again what matters
That is "out of the way"
I found again what matters
On Thanksgiving
(and each day)
It's a town that still grows clover
And corn and squash and beans
And most everyone is honest
And it's frowned on to be mean
And it's frowned on to be mean
There's no Walmart, there's no Kmart
But there is a hardware store
Where at Fall they put out apples
"TAKE ONE" says the sign right by the door
People listen when you speak to them
And expect the same from you
And we all learn from each other
And we all learn from each other
As we ponder what to do
No one dresses 'fancy'
No one much cares what what you drive
Most talk is of tractors
Who needs help, who's sick, who's died
You'll still see 'leave a message' boards
On porches worn and faded
On porches worn and faded
Sometimes is left some soup, a coat
That's well appreciated
Most of all I found again
The best of what was me
And I'm learning how to share it
And what 'giving' gives to me....
In a tiny little sleepy town
That history forgot
That history forgot
I found again what matters
And remembered what does not
By Issy 2013
Happy Thanksgiving to each of you
and I hope you know joy today
(and a little every other day too)
(and a little every other day too)
Thank you for sharing my odd little world :-)