| THE WOODEN MAN
Written by Alice Ellis
As I drive up the old Trans Canada just spying out the land.
On my left, I see a wooden man, up high upon his stand.
His hat sits nicely on his head, he's very much at ease.
Just looking straight across the road, his red scarf blowing in the breeze.
I am sure, that if he could, he would wear a great big smile,
knowing that old winter has passed him by and gone his last long mile.
We all just look him over, thinking how he looks so nice.
Knowing how he weathered many storms, the snow, the sleet, the ice.
Even though his expression never changes I'm sure he'd be glad it's spring.
If he could see the green grass coming and could hear birds begin to sing.
If the wooden man could think a bit, he'd probably
wonder why people are hurrying to the Hot House
their plants and shrubs to buy.
If only he could turn his head and if he could talk he'd say,
"you be sure and come again, now have a nice nice day."
I guess he will always be there, long after I am gone,
just standing , looking straight ahead from night time until dawn.
He will always be in that same place because he's not going anywhere.
Yes, he's just a Wooden Man and makes us happy being there.
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