‘Twas the Night of Our Birthday
‘Twas our 200th birthday and high above town
was a launching of fireworks from the county fairground.
The library exploded with Zambelli fine flair
to the Oohs and the Ahhs of the crowd on the square.
A year that began with a great birthday ball
with snowflakes that sparkled high up over all.
The old junior high was decked out with great care
for the dancers and prancers from old school days there.
When June rolled around, there arose on the square
a bronze work of art for the public to share.
Fine speakers and singers gathered there to perform
a tribute to Corydon of the time it was born.
A parade on the Fourth excited the crowd;
engines and sirens would not be allowed.
The horses rode proudly with flags carried high;
our history and heritage were seen passing by.
Just north of downtown in Indian summer
Cedar Glade had a birthday also 200 in number.
Historic old homes are friends in our midst.
Their wisdom and age are hard to resist.
For years and for years Halloween parades by.
Our love of the frightful we hope does not die.
The merchants this year rose to the occasion.
Those tricksters and treaters were filled with elation!
So here at Christmas and Thanksgiving time
we need to say thank you to those who were prime
in giving their money and valued support
so that all of us citizens could party and cavort.
The sponsors in business came through with their pledges.
‘We came in under budget!’ the committee alleges.
Mayor Cammack is grateful and says with a sigh
the town has survived with nary a black eye.
The weather provided near perfect conditions
for varied events in all their renditions.
We just missed the rain, and we just missed the ice.
No party was winded by Hurricane Ike.
Our stockings are hung with the memories and cheer
of all that we’ve done in this 200th birth year.
The time capsule closes with our lives safely snug
all nestled with care in a plexiglass jug.
We have one regret and it’s a small matter
(although hopes and dreams were shredded in tatters),
our fine rock star Mellencamp spurned all the pleas
that townspeople made on their bruised bended knees
to come to our hamlet and rock out his sound.
Well, phooey and schmooey to him all around.
So as the year closes and we spring to our Prius
let’s hope in 200 the future will see us
as people who knew how to play and have fun.
Happy birthday to all! And to all, well done!