Old Englishtown Poem by Gerry Legister

There is a place I own in an old Englishtown
Where the dim evening knurled into early night,
On the narrow street where we walked home
Elastic fury of day dissolved into a fading light.

Upon expiration we are drawn into that realm
With ceaseless ushering of poetry and music,
The twilight ambiance becomes a kindled flame,
Among my peers the atmosphere is eccentric.

In an Englishtown with the illumination of mind
Age formed the backbone of generation to come,
That is both clever and patriotic most of the time
See the old work of art engraved in sleepy stone.

Steep picturesque street and quaint costumes
Drawn by the shine on the ghost white road,
Swinging barouche owe the pennant of years
To neighborhood shadows that carries the load.

In winter a garment covered the frosty ground,
Looking up at hoary trees standing bleak and weak,
Suspended in a trance for changing seasons found
Old Englishtown waiting for the accomplish week.