The Lyrical Paraffin Lamp

Saw a man in town today, sitting writing in the street, he had a worn out coat and worn out shoes and a flat cap at his feet.

I asked

"What are you writing on those little bits of paper?"

"Poetry sweetheart" he replied

So I looked a bit closer to see his lines

it was then That I sighed.

"A pound for a poem" was what the sign said,

and being the glutton for rhyming words

a few just had to be read.

I picked up the first piece

the poetic title "paraffin lamp"

and I read this mans story of life living as a tramp.

As I delved into this man's soul a lump came to my throat, this talented man living on the streets in his tattered and torn coat.

His lyrics spoke words of ignorance, of people walking by, people pointing and laughing at him, people busy with their own lives.

He spoke about cold loneliness, in his poetic flow of truth, he spoke of how he longs for someone to just sit with him, have a brew.

So I sat beside him and told him

"I love poetry I do !"

And he smiled and said

"So do I sweetheart! Would you like me to write one for you?"

I asked "How much will it cost me?" And he said "A brew, just you and me!"

I said "I'll tell you what, write me a poem and I'll buy you a cup of tea"

He looked me straight in the eye and proceeded to write

I watched his talent flow from his pen smiling at his plight.

He wrote...

"An angel sat by me today, see! I knew it was good to pray! "

And with that handed it to me saying "That's for you"

I stood to my feet and thanked him smiley and dropped him a quid or two.

"Now for that brew!" I said to him, happy with my rhyme

"No thanks, it's ok!" He sighed

"To go in a cafe, looking like a paraffin lamp, would be an utter crime!"

I hope I see him again Monday because I'm going to show him this, that tattered old man, the paraffin lamp inspired me with a lyrical kiss.

***

Written on the 67 Bus, coming home from Manchester, by me, inspired by the poetic paraffin lamp xxxx