My aged old neighbors started a plot.
Let’s turn Pole Hill into ten or twelve lots.
I know when it rained, how the Hill it would drain.
I said to my wife, “Honey, what are my rights?”
“Money,” she said, “paid to Men of the Law ”
Will get you your rights.”
So I put in a call. A swale was designed, a glorified ditch.
We all looked at it and said, “It’s got the wrong pitch.”
We peered out the window and saw with one look, What should have been dry now was a brook.
Now it’s got to be fixed, but we’ll get some help.
The ditch with the wrong pitch has been conveyed to the Town by Men of the Law.
So all who pay taxes can help with the job.
Watch for development, that’s my advice, Or you’ll be up to your ankles in water and ice.