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Frank P Whyte

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Books by Frank P Whyte
by Frank P Whyte
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Rated "G" by the Author.

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Recent poems by Frank P Whyte
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           >> View all 318

Winkytown's a place
That I often go,
But one that you'll never see,
I can only get there when I'm all alone,
As it's well inside of me.

Winkytown smells like cotton candy,
And the streets are paved with gold.
In winter, marshmallow snow falls to the ground,
But, oddly it never gets cold.

In Winkytown,
All of the citizens are friends,
There are parades in the streets every day.
Christmas comes twice, each and every year,
In December, and in the month of May.

The mayor's my Dad,
And the police chief's my brother,
They keep Winkytown safe,
For my lovely mother.

Everyone in Winkytown, drives a Cadillac,
Around our town each day.
We all love our cars,
But we don't have to go far,
To find someplace to play.

There is no prejudice in my home town,
And the budget is in the black,
If anyone has to go fight a war far away,
In Winkytown, they always come back.

Soft music can be heard along the city streets,
And nary a word is said in anger,
You can sleep on a bench in the park at night,
And you'll never be in danger.

Everyone needs a place where they can go,
Where kindness and love make the only sounds,
And if for some reason you don't have your own,
Then I'll welcome you to Winkytown.


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Reviewed by Mitzi Jackson
yes delightful!!!
sounds like a wonderful place to be
Pleasantville mixed with Oz
Reviewed by Bonnie Torrente
Absolutely delightful concept.

Love, Bonnie
Reviewed by Judy Lloyd (Reader)
This sounds like Pleasantville. Nice and whimsical.
Reviewed by Sandie Angel
Wish I could be there too. Sounds really nice.

Sandie Angel a.k.a. Sandie May Angel :o)
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