Pomona

In the old days before a city was born

orchards and gardens made up my home

The harvests were bountiful

all thanks to a goddess

When families settled

between the orange trees

they never went hungry

The harvests were bountiful

all thanks to a goddess

Now generations later

the orchards are gone

A bustling city stands 

where the earth was once still

But the goddess was never forgotten

Her name is still spoken

as the name of the city

The city of Pomona