I parked on a hill as the Sun went down,
Spread out below me was a great little town. I made myself a promise, that one day I’ll reside in the best place on earth with my wife at my side.
A lake to the north and a lake to the South, this has to be it, of that there’s no doubt.
It’s been a long journey from Yorkshire to here, the years have been good and that is quite clear.
My kids have all gone and we are now on our own. My soulmate and I reaping what we have sewn.
Well what’s this about? You may now inquire. Well here’s my two cents worth, so stoke up the fire. If a park could talk …
“To those I have loved and left behind … a few simple words now come to mind.”
Wake up Penticton, before its too late. There are those among you who will alter your fate.
This man and his gang, he must be stopped.
Not a blade of grass can ever be cropped.
Not an inch of land that is now your park.
Can be leased away and remove its mark.
Not a tree or a frog or any rendition can be removed from now on without your permission. This park that is free must always remain. As was intended, in only your domain.
So wake up Penticton, and take back your land it was never intended to be out of your hand.
Don’t let this happen, so stand up and complain.
If this goes ahead it won’t be the same.