We moved to a small community
Up north where many things you see,
Not ever found in a large busy city
Even if they have large parks so pretty.
Stars shine bright that are hardly seen
Where thousands of street lights gleam,
A fox family wander in your large garden,
See new bear cubs freshly out of the den,
Yet there’s no exciting things to do at night,
You join the choir and sing with all your might,
Be a volunteer to help some folks round about,
They need actors for a play, fun wothout a doubt.
Someone said “What will you do when it comes
You can’t sit and watch and tiddle your thumbs”
Then they told us of their very own Festival Day,
A yearly happening and so special in every way.
It seemed that this village so very quiet and small,
One day a year, went quite wild in the early fall,
And had contests and told things, dog trials, the lot,
All in Williams’s large meadow, the perfect spot.
Crafts were made some very large and some small,
Crops well tended to be ready for that day in the fall
When people for miles around came to join in the fun,
And many cups, trophies and coloured ribbons won.
So we made crafts and bottled and made lots of jam,
Made a pile of sandwiches with home smoked ham,
Groomed the cat and the dog ready for the show,
Then off to the big Festival Day we did all go.
Shep came in third, but our cute cat won first place,
The smoked ham sandwiches went at an amazing rate,
All our crafts were sold, the jams and pickles too,
Now we prepare for the Festival day all years through
(Millicent) Ann Margetson May 12, 2003
2003/3078fest/fact fiction/could be true