The poem  below was written approximately twenty years ago; however, it could have been composed any year with the creek's inspiration.


My friends and visitors call me Shoal Creek.

I'm not as wide as the Missouri or Mississippi

But I'm always enjoyed by all

Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall.

My visitors fish, swim, lay in the sun,

Take pictures, or just come to the creek to have fun.

Talking to friends, watching birds, drinking beers,

Fishing, or kissing under the stars.

Some don't care where their litter goes

Or if it will still be there when it snows.

Many of them don't realize the sorrow

It brings the creek  next week, next year, or tomorrow.

In desperation I clean up the mess as best I can.

I'll flood and recede and when the high water's gone

My friends will pick up your cans, cups, and other debris

And place them in the trash cans which you could easily see.

Just Remember  —  I'm the only Shoal Creek that you have!!!!!