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The House That Jack Built 3

The House That Jack Built 3
Frequently we youngest four gathered bottles that were strewn in ditches,
 And along the railroad track,
Then glide our feet over well-worn steel rails on the journey back.
 We'd exchange empties for jaw-breakers and bubble-gum at Rose’s General Store,
 And whenever I agreed to sing them a song,
 We’d be given ice-cream cones for the deed that was far from a chore.
 On the way home we’d pluck dandelions, buttercups, and daisies,
 To present Ma with a colorful bouquet,
 I’d add to it a rose or two if a certain neighbor was away.
 If walls of home had open eyes and listening ears of course they’d witness and hear,
 The muttered complaints and landing though faint of many a fallen tear.
 Still, there was no television to carry us to places no child should go,
 No boob-tube attempting to make us believe in all that just wasn't so.
 We’d no telephone enslaving us in idle prattle-prat,
 There was no couch-potatoing, no pigging out and getting fat.
 We weren’t saints and some of our shenanigans surely caused the structure to tilt,
 Yet we somehow felt all safe and secure in The House They Say Jack Built.
 Then one day city slickers arrived at our door,
 Said soon we would be living in Farran's Point no more,
 The house where Ma had birthed nine,
 Our Haven of Liberty that rested amid Willow, Maple and Pine,
 Was part of some Seaway Power Project and Jack's House would be torn down,
 And we were forced to relocate , to leave our delightful riverside town.
 Gone would be the tall, proud trees, wild berries , rolling hills, winding creek and close friend,
 Gone the canal that ships sailed through never would I cheerfully view again.
 Gone the long tall grass we'd run through barefoot ,
 After a swim in the River we cherished dear,
 Gone the smiles from the faces of the Lost Villagers as eyes tried to hold back each tear. 

 by Joan Donnelly Ellis

Note: Farran's Point Ontario, Canada  was a small riverside village. It was one of nine villages relocated before USA & Canada flooded the area in 1958 (St. Lawrence Seaway Power Project)

Copyright © Joan Donnelly Ellis | Year Posted 2015

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CayCay Jennings Date: 9/30/2015 9:55:00 PM Joan - I realize you are a bit older than me, but even so you took me back and delighted me and I didn't want to leave that house or land. This is a beautiful and clever write of growing up in a different and, I think, better time. I believe this should be illustrated and sold as a children's story. Thank you very much for the time and effort you took in delivering delightful memories to us on Soup ... CayCay Login to Reply Joan Donnelly Ellis Date: 9/30/2015 11:12:00 PM Thank you CayCay for taking the time to read it and I agree it was a good time. I was born in 1946 and so do miss the villages and villagers. Not many of us left. Thanks again . It warms my heart that you liked the story of my childhood.