Once upon the time of ole
folks gathered at the village pub.
It wasn't just a watering hole,
but listen - here's the rub -

Families came and children played
"˜Twas the place for dating, too.
Dinners eaten, then folks stayed
to listen to a song or two.

Story-tellers would regale
as fiddles and the harps kept time.
All would dance; a babe might wail.
Singers kept a pleasant rhyme.

So was the village of the past
where Now flew by like the breeze -
no CD's or DVD's to cast
cash for recorded memories.

Treasuring the lives of all instead.
they smiled upon each young face
wondering what lay inside that head,
one day the village pub to grace.

What gifts would each one come to know
in this village of such pleasantries,
where one was not afraid to show
their individualities?

How precious did each life appear,
its essence golden, undefiled
by fame and fortune raising fear
of loss of oneness and one's inner child.

© 2006 jdh