On the ancient shores of glacial Lake Chicago
Grew a village that one could agreeably argue,
Was originally called the Oak Park Spit,
Now hailed a socially liberal hit.
 
From Sac, and Fox and Potawatomi tribes,
The first few settlers created lives
Culturally diverse, working hand-in-hand,
Named World’s Largest Village in the land.
 
Kettlestring Tavern was the first one to brew,
Then dance, food and music at Art dans la Rue,
An American Frontier so rich in culture,
On tree-lined streets, you’ll find a sculpture.
 
Hidden rooms, secret tunnels of Machine Gun mobster,
Tough Tony sat here enjoying a lobster
Hemingway, too, For Whom The Bell Tolls,
And Betty White in comedic roles.
Frank Lloyd Wright in his orange red car,
Who will be the next rising star?

Churches and steeples, libraries with peoples,
Teachers and students, and all of their movements,
Coming together, no matter the weather,
Apartments and houses, big and little,
Owners and renters, we’re in the same pickle.

Police in cars and Segway’s downtown,
Firefighters ready to hose fires down,
Hospital workers right on your doorstep,
Ever close by if your kids get strep.
 
There’s places you’ll go and right away know
If it’s good or it’s bad, happy or sad,
But Oak Park’s the one place,
A transparent true face,
Where you won’t feel alone,
A place to call home.

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