Evelyn Judy Buehler

March 18, 1953 - Chicago
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The Story of Streets

I was a meticulous city planner, like future plans we make for jasmine days,
And I loved beautifying the big city, like blooming parks where nature plays.

I was ever striving to improve the metropolis, proposing plans and projects,
And meeting with public officials, as stars and moon improve night prospects.

I administered government policies, and decided the best uses for city land,
And I was informed on zoning and construction codes, with data on demand.

I was proud of that bustling metropolis, for like red sun, it was going places,
And I was proud of my home in its heart, as roses beam from pretty spaces!

I'd always loved to plan things, because I was a perfectionist and a neatnik,
Like little witches and ghouls on Halloween, are often eager for a neat trick.

My home was always in order, and its grounds were fastidiously landscaped,
As neat, sable curtains fall on chaotic colors, once a feverish sun's escaped!

Though a serious person, working a complex job, I still enjoyed having fun,
For plentiful laughter waits on the sunny side, where shadows come undone.

I was working on my newest, ambitious project, a street traversing the city,
And a small amount of research was required, as repeated errors are a pity.

Days were shot through with gold, and satiny nights were streaked purple,
And I was busily at work on a project, that would simplify travel for people.

Everything was going quite well, and I had countless reasons for optimism,
Like the bright outlook you possess, when looking at light through a prism.

One night while eagerly researching, I found myself yawning and drowsing,
A spell that's cast in every corner of the world, whenever stars are crowding.

Really soon, I laid down in moonlight, in the welcome darkness of my room,
A perfect time to surrender to dreams, in the place night blooms are strewn.

My dreams that night were of a topic, which was near and dear to my heart,
A dreamland history of networking streets, in long ago times, a world apart!

The first ones were trails made by animals, and improved upon by humans,
Like sunset hours, as day and night meet, like finding love among the ruins.

And the storied history of our streets, is more than eight thousand years old,
While paving with abiding stone, has been done six thousand years, all told.

In rosy dreams that lovely, velvet night, I walked and rode a thousand miles,
Up and down the streets of the past, like an enchanting garden's floral aisles!

Golden sunup found the world singing again, and I would never be the same,
For I would ever look at streets differently, like sunlit rainbow's wide acclaim.

The street project was a big success, that improved the daily lives of many,
One of an endless, global network, on land, on sea, and blue skies so pretty!
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