Community Articles

Across lush green rolling meadows, far away
Where golden celandine and buttercups sway
To your rugged banks, as you wend your way
Many generations of children have come to play

From your shallow waters, tiny fish and tadpoles we took
Our swing of rope, from the tree, across the brook
Shook the bough as our weight it took
As we flew out far across Gaston’s Brook

Although with my life I am now content
Memories of you will never relent,
Even though needs of a modern environment
Have buried you under concrete and cement.