Two roads, a ferry, and a lake
Do not a city make
Nor hamlet so I read
For hamlets have no churches
Nor government to lead
But the lovely intersection
Of travel wet and dry
Are perfect for the village
That lives in my mind’s eye
Now those who visit, those who stay
Are not quite all the same
Each has its own perspective
Each sings its own refrain
The village has old timers
And latecomers in its fold
Plus an influx of summer folks
Who leave when it gets cold
Now toss in all the travelers
Who are only passing through
Some stop and have a bite to eat
And all enjoy the view
This mixture of humanity
Creates a potpourri
Which means within the village
People often disagree
Of course they hate the winter
And warmly welcome summer
But when it comes to politics
Its glum and even glummer
No unifying vision
No common cause for all
But rather each to owns the cry
On Main Street or Town Hall
But the village seems to thrive
And remain a lakeside treasure
For residents and visitors
All love it in full measure
Jeff Moredock
June 2015
Pat Dresden says
You’re hot for Chet Huntley.
I adore Edward R Murrow.
We both love dear Essex,
But what about Willsboro?