June 16, 1938
The first of
Why to-day's the day
They'll start to hay
heard of it, you say?
It's a splinter of fairyland tucked away
In Pennsylvania mountains gay.
There's a quilt
of grass on every least incline,
And morning's dew sparkles with a
Special sort of shine.
The limp lake
waters lick and lop
Like a languid lad with a lollypop,
In summer time they mirror trees,
In winter they are first to freeze.
are lazy and fat and slow,
But they know where the choicest gardens grow.
They have a weirdly sure animal sense
Which seems to see flags by the holes in the fence.
The wind chases
patterns though the hay
And cowbells tinkle out the day.
like blades, with berries large
Are dauntless in tolling nature's charge.
find the straw in the barn
More playful than city cousins find the yarn.
The tired moon
smiles as she climbs the sky,
Can Rileyville be nicer viewed from high?