Saturday, July 18, 2015

A City Poem, With Variations


                                          

The city streets are hot and dry,
The cost of living still is high;
But up and down the streets all day
The crowd goes in the same old way.
The same old bargain hunters rush
About the counters with a crush.
(Gee, how I wish that I could take
A two weeks rest down by the lake.)

The summer shows are running, too,
With lots of people who pursue.
The cafes are ablaze with lights
For people who have appetites.
The crowds are large, exceeding gay,
You’d hardly think some were away.
(All this is fine, but O, my soul,
That boat and crick and fishing pole!)

The parks are fine, the fountains sweet,
The city concerts can’t be beat;
The people who remain in town,
Are jolly and won’t be cast down.
Why not join in and make the time
Pass like a merry measured rhyme?
(I would but that confounded crick
Keeps butting in and makes me sick!)



July 18, ‘10




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