By Andrew Melillo
There is a small cottage out yonder, did you hear?
Th’ most famous to claimest the highest profiteer –
An old cottage of Lauder, overlooking The Goose,
Even The Nipowin, th’ one who let it loose –
Loose to buyers who had thoughts much in store,
Like buying fifty acres on th’ gold Greenwich shore.
The house of old George, Carnegie’s old friend,
Sent a recent posting making all necks doth bend.
Bend to the sight of a new venture offered,
To see who’s enticed with enough gold ‘n coffers.
So, all gasp and wonder, “What ‘tis to behold?”
All asking among others, “Has it been sold?”
Old titans willed gardens and splendid estates,
Once again, such Land and Technology building high stakes.
The sands of the beech glisten crisp with bright copper,
Tempting the willing, bold, and brave ol’ shopper.
So here is to the land of our Horseneck so dear,
Whose people and steeples gleam so crystally clear.
With waters at sight and comfort great at hand,
Such a great glistening listing makes its brilliant fresh stand.
The house of old George yet stands noble ‘pon the shore,
Full of dreams that do gleam, with the stories of lore.
Of titans, of dreamers, of the old Greenwich coast –
Let us see who can muster the courage to boast.