New Custom 5

When it was its Day

It was only a building set deep in a valley

That time long ago took away.

To all who passed by - just a small school

That flourished when it was its day.

The building’s now gone, the ball field no more,

Children’s voices --- but echoes in time;

And all that is left are the memories that swirl

Like a sonnet in search of a rhyme.

Five decades have passed since any were there -

Any child in search of their fate.

So logic would shout, “ it now is all gone,

Our search for the past is too late.”

But, this cannot be, there surely is more

For memories still roam those green hills.

And memories will last as long as there’s breath

In one child whose life they once filled.

The breezes still dance down the green valley

As they did so long, long ago.

Locust and cottonwoods stand sentinel duty

Wondering: where did the laughter all go?

Somewhere in time the coal shed still stands

And the cistern still water provides;

The outhouses listen to hear whispered secrets

From those who have hurried inside.

Somewhere the ball field still echoes with shouts

In a game being played with no end.

And somewhere swing sets and merry-go-rounds

Wait for you and your very best friend.

And somewhere the teacher still works her strange magic:

Eight grades and all children still learned.

And somewhere the old iron stove still roars

With the coal carried in to be burned.

Somewhere the teacher still rings the school bell

And the students all hurry inside.

And ease into desks with names from the past

Carved carefully in the topside.

We know they’re all there, they all have to be

Waiting for us up ahead,

For life was too good, to ever believe

Such treasures have eternally fled.

Somewhere ahead so many wait for us,

The ladder of death they have climbed -

Alumni from life and from the small school

They also attended in time.

Won’t be long we each know ‘till the bell rings for us

To join them in eternity’s row-

Look back and wonder how time left so fast,

And long for the small school below.

Our heads all sprout grey where color once was

When we danced through the time of the school.

But beneath each grey head the school will live on

Though life gives up its long rule.

So laugh in the face of the ravage of time

And know the doubters aren’t right;

Stony Point still stands and the school still lives strong

In the hearts of those here tonight.

So one final time we honor the school

As memories fade fast away,

And proudly proclaim, “Stony Point was our school”

Long ago - when it was its day.