Bath Busker

Bath Busker

So what tunes have you played

since last we met

 with mournful sound

 and style distinct

 hiding face

 from tourist shopper

 that once was sheltered

 on sodden Ennis street?

 From courtyard quiet

 to Roman Bath?

 From rain to sun

 and life to lyric?

 Rattled with ridicule?

 Unhearing holy few?

 But what of another

 who takes note you’re here

 and sees again

 in unforeseen street

 some stooped figure?

 Will he remember

 will he recall

 love and protest song

 and in between all ?

 What have truth and lie to hide?

 Times there are

 if permission were such

 we too would look

 in contorted silence locked.

 Where client and customer

 congregant and stranger

 without glance

 just pass.

So I’ll leave you here 

till you move on

 and take with me

 this grace unsung

 and happy never after

sacrament.

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