A Village of Roses

We live up north,
It's pretty up here,
The taxes are lower,
Though you're under the umbrella,
Of the rockets of Hezbollah,
Built into a hill,
Eight itty bitty traffic circles,
Take you up,
The same take you down,
The village is small,
Nothing overwhelms,
Except,
The charm,
Kfar Vradim,
The Village of Roses,
They grow along
Narrow main roads,
I'd like to help them
Prune,
I'll bet I could double
The flower count!
This is,
Afterall,
A coop society,
This isn't the Israel,
We read all about,
It's a planned community,
Sort of,
As planned as you get
In Israel,
A little mall,
A little this,
A little that,
Lots of folks,
Walking about,
On
Narrow streets,
You'll know so many,
It'll feels even smaller
Than it is,
The thing I hate,
Most of all?
The roses just
Aren't mine to prune.