Beggar thy neighbour
He begged in rhyme and rime sang words to the music of time.
“Please do not pay me a pittance”,
Let’s give him five, ten, fifteen, going, going, gone.
He raised his face to the heavens,
The ice coal charcoal sky and the hard- rain- gong- soon to-be falling- skies- above.
The balaclava empty and vacant on the floor at the before the passage of foreigners
There came to him an elderly angel,
Money she brought and a request she made.
“Thank Jesus”, she pleaded as she handed him her own note.
The musical note of ten that chimed so sweet to him in the muggy shadows of Wednesday.
I will, ma’am he replied and they had a conversation and she told him tales of a foreign land where she had dwelt and now she lamented the people who came and went and listened less than she wanted to like.
You are a fair woman, he implied and fair ye well.
He had laid his mattress, made his bed and asked for alms.
If you want it in this language, I’ll compose it in Spanish.
If Hispania is not your thing, how about the French thing?
Failing those two, spare some loose change, no notes mind you,
And give unto me.
Higher he chimed or lower he sighed
It is really all the same to me.
Up and about and half sodden from the rains that fell,
He left the patch and threatened Tom, Tracey, Sharon and Harry to vanish into Hade an hell.
He broke fast for the evening,
And said in fluent tongue,
Sudah makan?
His thoughts made him smile as he left for the study,
You can, if you will, but s’il vous plait, jangan lupa, do not follow me!
