The Town of Nogood
My friend, have you heard of the town of Nogood,
On the banks of the River Slow,
Where blooms the Waitawhile flower fair,
Where Sometimeorother scents the air,
And the soft Goeasies grow?
It lies in the Valley of Whatstheuse,
In the Province of Letterslide.
That Tiredfeeling is native there,
It's the home of the reckless Idontcare,
Where the Giveitups abide.
It stands at the bottom of Lazyhill,
And easy to reach, I declarre;
You've only to fold up your hands and glide
Down the slope of Weakwill's toboggan slide
To be landed quickly there.
The town is as old as the human race
And it grows with the flint of years.
It is wrapped in the fog of idler's dreams,
Its streets are paved with discarded schemes,
And sprinkled with useless tears.
The Collegebred fool and the Richman's heir
Are plentiful there, no doubt.
The rest of its crowd are a motley crew,
With every class except one in view-
The Foolkiller is barred out.
The town of Nogood is all hedged about
By the mountains of Despair.
No sentinelstands on its gloomy walls,
No trumpet to battle and triumph calls,
For cowards alone are there.
My friend, from the dead-alive town Nogood
If you would keep far away,
Just follow your duty through good and ill,
Take this for your motto, "I can, I will,"
And live up to it each day.
W. E. Penny
I've been so busy lately that I thought a bit of poetry break was in order. A whimsical prose, yes, but I do enjoy the Poe like setting that this fable paints as it's real life ramifications of being in a place just such as this would be one well indeed to miss.
Have a Great day filled with blessings of joy and peace with enlightenment and prosperity alway!
Barb
