Poem of the Moment

On this page I am posting poems that have just sprung to mind. Some of these may have just been written on the spot and may be rubbish. You decide 😀…

I have a friend I’ve met who sells the Big Issue. A lovely bloke. This was in part inspired by him. Just because you are homeless, it doesnt make you worthless, and it doesnt mean you dont still have dignity.

THE SQUIRRELS IN THE PARK

I have no longing for the things that are desirable to many
Anything that I possess is hardly worth a penny
This country where I live, is not my land of milk n honey
I get wet through when it rains , n’ then, I dry-off when it’s sunny
I’ve never feared a bailiff, I hide from no loan shark
I’m living mortgage-free amongst the squirrels in the park

When you pass me in the City, you don’t have to hold your nose
Because I know where to go to when I need to clean my clothes
You could say that I look shabby, but you couldn’t say I smell
I wash myself with soap each night, I shave most days as well
I’m thick-skinned and impervious to any sly remark
I’d rather listen to the chatter of the squirrels in the park

I used to have a bedroom, I used to have a mother
I used to have a sister, and once, or twice, I had a lover
I used to have a job, and I used to have the bills
I also had the worry, all the stress and headache pills!

I’m not a boozer or a user (though I know a lot who are)
You’ll never catch me begging for your change, outside a bar
You won’t see me near the cashpoint, pleading at you, cap-in-hand
Though, possibly I’ve sold you a Big Issue on the Strand
If I sell them all by midday, I’m as happy as a lark
For, I’m then free to go and sit amongst the squirrels in the park

Away from all the crowds, the noisy streets and bars
I feed the geese and ducks and sleep out underneath the stars
When a storm is brewing, I just squirrel myself away
If you’re into Wild Camping; Hey!… I live it everyday

When my rucksack lets in water, on the days it hammers down
I’m better sat beneath a tree, than soaked by traffic in the town
I get hand-me downs from people, to protect me from the weather
I haven’t got two coppers, that I could rub together
But I’m happier than a millionaire or any oligarch
They’ve got rats and hangers-on…

I’ve got the squirrels in the park

Copyright(C)MacMcFadden2019

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