The stage is set for another trade, this time it was in the quaint little town of Greensboro, Georgia.
It is widely believed that this is a "moving" Trade Day due to the likelihood that this bunch are typically banned from eating establishments following one of their soirée's.
Truth be told, this group sometimes "skips" out on the bill and leaves one member with responsibility.
There were quite a few attendees at this months trade day.
Editor's Note: the following poem was submitted for publication - it is the responsibility of the web site Editor to review all material for publication and make corrections - first when it comes to poems it is essential that you figure out the structure to be able to edit it - is it a Ballad, Couplet, Quatrain, Cinquain, Iambic Pentameter, Sonnet, Haiku or perhaps an Epic? Failing to identify the style of the Poem, I contacted the author and received the following classification information "I'm a Southern Poet...I don' Need no Stinkin cadence!" I am not sure that the Editor has anything to add to that statement...
TRADE DAY Rumour has it another trade is going down, It’s quite possible to be a big one. I’m told that it involves a lot of cash, But sometimes conversations are overblown.
It will happen in Sparta of that I am sure, Marbury’s place is the location. The traders are yet uncertain, Because no one really knows their motivation.
The big dog is ready to pounce, $100 dollar bills are many by the ounce, The real traders will be there and that’s what counts, Who will be the winner only Joe will announce.