I’m sorry if this poem’s a little late today…it’s not that I had trouble with the rhyme
but now that we’re in North Carolina we have switched to mountain time.
It’s not that we no longer care…or we’ve become too laxed…
its just…up her in the mountains…we know how to relax.
A pipe is broken in the kitchen… there’s water leaking through the wall
we’d like it fixed today if possible so we give the plumber a call.
Bobby is out hunting, it’s the first day of fishing season and Jimmy…well he’s a fisherman…
Cliff will be there, Bobby assures us,…when he finishes working on his van.
The sign reads ‘We Open at 9:00…we have everything you need…and more’.
but it wasn’t til 9:30 when Frances opened up the door.
When she went to check her tomatoes this morning…there were ripe ones on the vine
and there’s no way she could pick them all…and open the story by nine..
The only check-out line at France’s store moved slowly but do not be dismayed
Peggy was delivering her latest batch of honey…the best her bees have ever made.
There’s something to be said for the patient and gentle way
in which the people in the mountains meander through their day.
It makes them a little more carefree, their demeanor cordial and sweet.
Many of the people in the mountains are the nicest people you could meet.
Cliff got around to fix our plumbing problem, France’s store was a place to celebrate,
Peggy’s honey was delicious….you might say they were worth the wait.
Which made us ask ourselves this question
as time constraints oftentimes can make us fuss
are we controlling time...or is time controlling us?
So tomorrow or the next day I’m not sure when I’ll post my rhyme
If I’m a little late, no worries...you see I’m back on mountain time.
No comments:
Post a Comment