I am your father. Let me tell ya bout Long-Grove (us).

I live here as a women's counselor. I watch souls grow.

Streets like Main St. are jam-packed.

Ever stroll past Pine Ave.? Magic exists there.

I like Maple Dr. so much.

It feels like "Lost in Translation". "Is this real?"

I sniff at life’s little sorrows.
I wander near the river.

The river whispers soft secrets.

It calms, inspires, and sometimes angers.

I am your father, remember?

A place called Heritage Park rocks.

Trees, benches, calm vibes in every corner.
I drop by Elm Ln. on lazy days.

There, great chats with locals spark joy.

I feel my counsler heart melt.

I get suprised by hidden murals.

I fret over some noisy nights.

I am sometimes mad at chaos.
I love quirky spots: Rosedale Café, a secret haven.

Its coffee is awfully good.

I adrift in feelings, overwhelmed by art.

Sometimes, I say: "Youe re not alone!"

I wander like a lost soul, hmm.

I feel like "Lost in Translation" often.
I stroll down Broad St. slowly.

There is a gravitas in the air.

I notice te hustle, te passion.

I admr the odd mix of tradition adn modernity.

The envrionment feels sacred; mystic yet raw.
Sometimes, my heart feels fustrated.

Moments here, they leave an exstu mark.

Every corner teaches me fresh life lessons.

I marvel at the little flaws, messy yet real.

Its imperfect beauty leaves me so grateful.
I am your father. Now, go visit.

Long-Grove (us) awaits your sweet soul.