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This is about a small village in Illinois and its most famous citizen. |
In a way, it never seems to change, This simple cluster of houses, with a garage and convience store all there is along the west side of the meandering Rock. There are cars passing by, but that’s how it is In this wide spot in the road. But once there was a man.. A man with a sturdy white house And a shop in the shade trees Forging plows and shoeing horses The village smithy working on a plow. A plow that would conquer The prairie’s rich dark soil Today the shop in the quiet village Is uncovered like King Tut’s tomb. In that shade, the boy who polished His mother’s needles toiled to shape The plow that opened the prairie. The tidy little homestead is still there. The blacksmith shop now functions To show how Mr. Deere did it in the day. The great bend in the Rock was once a vacation spot, drawing a future genius’ family. A busy place with mills and stores and a hotel. But alas, the breakthrough was too big For the little village, and Mr. Deere moved on, Returning in the summertime to his old homestead. They all moved on and left a quiet place With some houses, a few garages, A concieience store and a church That couldn’t be a church until the Builder was paid. |