Saddest Little Corner of the World

 THE SADDEST LITTLE CORNER

OF THE WORLD.

Sprays of blooms promise cheer
Shading trees cast shadows of tranquility across manicured lawns
Tiny windmills whirl in a riot of colours
Dappled light dancing across spinning vanes
It's the saddest little corner of the world.

So many little children, but not a one at play
Teddys, dolls, and toys sit idle, waiting
Elves, nymphs and woodland creatures stand guard and bear silent witness
It's the saddest little corner of the world.

Be it rain, shine, tempest or blistering heat, visitors are seldom deterred
Regularly they come and then go with solemn vows to return soon
Soon soon turns to often
Often often turns to sometimes
Sometimes always leads to hardly ever, or never
It's the saddest little corner of the world.

You'll find one in just about every city and small town, hiding in plain sight
Most people will rarely ever notice it and let us hope they never will
For once they do, its sadness will remain forever etched upon their hearts
As resolute and immoveable as the brass plaques lying in neat rows
It's the saddest little corner of the world.

In memory of Mitchell Rickard, July 18, 1997.