ONE dusky, dark, December day left Gala like a tomb.

There was no sight, or hint of light No room for aught but gloom.

The streets and shops were deathly quiet -An air of pending doom No people spoke or cracked a joke - A bride without a groom.

The hills that lined the swollen stream Seem to threaten pain The clouds that hang low over us Must surely fall as rain.

Without a cure for this despair This gloom can only deepen The only folk I’ve seen so far Are either dead or sleepin’.

But wait! Here on the Selkirk Road I thought I saw a shadow - I did, I did, I really did!

A hint of El Dorado.

For looking on to Buckholm Like rising from the dead Another Buckholm standing there Completely bathed in red.

It only lasted minutes But this sight will never ever Be lost to my old memory It’s locked in there forever.

So if it’s on the righteous That the sun’s supposed to shine The folks in Haliburton Must be the very first in line.

JBS December 9, 2014.