By Winifred Watts Cray
There’s an old-world charm to Chesterfield,
The old houses, and buildings of stone.
Rustic hues and stately tall trees,
That time and change alone can tone.
In mornings wee hours folk walk their dogs
While night-shift workers rest and slumber.
Sounds of saw and hammer are heard,
As someone hews and works with lumber.
Our lovely Main St. boasts “The Pillars,”
And a stone building, once Pennings Store,
Post Office still housed within it walls,
A walk down the street shows even more;
The Methodist Church built in 1844,
Its steeple rises against blue sky;
A heritage of over one-hundred years,
A beautiful sight as you pass by.
Across the way the charming Westview
Where boarders once stayed to dine and rest;
Scrumptious meals were served for small groups,
The cuisine was one of the best.
A blacksmith shop built in 1810,
Once stood below the church on the hill.
Now part of Storrowton Village,
Leaves memories time cannot still.
For the ring of the hammer and anvil,
On horseshoe, as horses were shod;
Rebounds down through timeless ages,
When hooves clip, clopped on hard-packed sod.