Don't really matter if I'm getting wet
But I can't let my buddy go soggy
It's just him and I and a French cigarette
When the sea air is crystal or foggy
If the wine house has hired a musician like me
Then it's out on the streets to perform
Under a canvas or under a tree
Till the passing of rudeness and storm
Kids shout as they run past, old women hold ears
The scraping out-bellows the tuts
An instrument yearning orchestral austere
Which hurts like a kick in the guts!
Nay, we don't make a fortune, just clutter and noise
Only pleasing the odd girl or fellow
Romanticist's folly from belly to bow
A man and his best friend the cello
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9 comments:
Wonderful poem to accompany the picture. I'm sure the occasional odd girl or fellow really enjoys the beautiful music that he makes :)
As always, this is delightful!
Ah but its all part of the rich tapestry of life ! , cheers mate , this was fun
Love this. Lots of imagery :)
Hmmm. Making music that isnt necessarily beautiful. I hadnt thought of that.
Creative and well written.
A faithful friend indeed..so original..I can feel the atmosphere!
So good!
from 'Thingy'
Guid wee poem, hen.....
The rhyme and rythm make this a delight to read out loud. And I love the detail of the French cigarette. (And happy birthday Lena!)
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