Monday, 2 February 2015

flautist's preservance


Thirty yards on legs and a stick
He covered to appear the first day
As carts blurted forgetting his pick
Leaving him lost, in a world astray

In between his pervasive silence of smile
Hid his bag of fortune saved this while
'to liven, you give and you'll get,
Love for all is the purest bet.'

Soon after he sang the night
The dawn missed his last words 
Embracing a key in his hand tight
He had left before the morning birds 

His words stilled and filled my head
As I opened the trasure he hailed
I could imagine gold keys under a bed
But his preservance had my heart wailed

'I give you, you give everyone,
Smile a million years strong'
A pair of hands turning desolate lone
Honing wood with its own song

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