The Busker
poem by:
Cecilia Crasto
Written
on Sep 14, 2016
He strums his guitar he sings a sad song His collar is frayed his hair too long People hurry past without a glance He'll stay awhile and take his chance. Then when his spirits begin to sag He sees the girl and she walks with swag The tempo is increased to a lively beat She begins to tap her stiletto clad feet. With seductive grace she starts to sway People come by and decide to stay She hitches her skirts she plays to the crowd They nod their approval and cheer aloud. She came with a purpose and fire in her heart Suspicions were harbored right from the start She tracked him down to this busy street Now dances like a dervish to his crazy beat. The crowds dsisperse she holds out her hand He offers a dollar- it's tossed in the sand They each will go their separate way Tomorrow will bring a brand new day.
Tags: Beat, Rhyme, Humor,
Add Comment
stuart gardiner commented:
Nice. Liked it.
Christopher Russon
commented:
A really.Nice poem.I can imagine the scene.
Ann Sdono
commented:
I really like it.
Cecilia Crasto
commented:
Thank you all for you kind comments... much appreciated.
Fauxcroft wade
commented:
amazing stuff
Geoffrey Brewer
commented:
A delightful narrative poem with strong images.
A previous user
commented:
A delightful narrative poem with strong images.
Maria Williams
commented:
Good tempo to this, I could well imagine the scene which you so vividly portray.
Frank Hornby .
commented:
Love this poem....my grandson Charlie, did a bit of busking on the streets of Leeds,.....I can't walk past a busker without tossing some coins into their hat....it takes a lot of courage to put yourself out there......
