There lived a young lad called Mark.
Who lived by himself, under a bridge in the Park.
By day he would wander around, alone.
He was lost and lonely with no place to call his own.
Mark, though, had a magic trick.
He could play a good tune with a couple of old cans and a pair of drumsticks.
By day Mark would set up his show.
Tin cans, his drumsticks, a few lights to create atmosphere, give a bright glow.
As the day turned to night and the sky began to turn red
Just as young children were going to bed.
Mark would play his tunes on his cans.
It had the sound of a large marching band.
People would gather around in large crowds.
They would gather in all weather, sun, rain, grey clouds.
People would listen, clap, sing a long, generally being very loud.
People started to leave money in a hat on the floor.
Mark was hoping one day to have enough to rent a place with his own front door.
For now, though Mark was happy as he was, by day he was still alone. This gave him time to think, maybe he would add a saxophone.
Perhaps a cymbal or two, maybe a harmonica strapped around his neck and a few bells attached to his shoe.
There was no end to Marks talent, his fame grew far and wide
Mark remained down to earth, not full of pride
Mark earned a small fortune, enough to buy somewhere with his own front door
Mark didn’t think he could ask for more.
Mark longed for someone to share it all with, by his side
When one day, out of the blue,
Mark was feeling lonely again, but now he had nothing to do
A young girl happened to knock on his door
She was carrying some samples of a carpet floor
Mark invited the young girl in
Bought all of her samples, which put the girl in a spin
Mark invited the girl to stay for a while
While he explored his purchase of carpet tile
They talked and they laughed until it was very late
Then Mark cooked them a meal, served on a plate
They devoured the meal swiftly and then had some fun
With the meringue, cream and floured bun
Now Mark has a young Wife and several small children by his side
Young Mark is grateful for his lot
And often puts on free gigs, for the homeless, in the Supermarket parking lot.
Wolphia thank you for reading xx
Very good moving visuals , while reading this I could picture it happening real time.
Nice, and we are glad to read the happy ending too! This poem goes to show us how no matter how hard or fast, circumstances and situations change, even when it feels the sun is hiding its face from us. With hope and a steady will, Mark made the best out of what he could - great tale, Jackie! You are wonderful storyteller!
Just a bit of fun for an otherwise wet and miserable Sunday :)