The Busker

poem by: Cecilia Crasto
Written on Sep 14, 2016

He strums his guitar he sings a sad song
His collar is frayed his hair too long
People hurry past without a glance
He'll stay awhile and take his chance.

Then when his spirits begin to sag
He sees the girl and she walks with swag
The tempo is increased to a lively beat
She begins to tap her stiletto clad feet.

With seductive grace she starts to sway 
People come by and decide to stay
She hitches her skirts she plays to the crowd
They nod their approval and cheer aloud.

She came with a purpose and fire in her heart
Suspicions were harbored right from the start
She tracked him down to this busy street
Now dances like a dervish to his crazy beat.

The crowds dsisperse she holds out her hand
He offers a dollar- it's tossed in the sand
They each will go their separate way
Tomorrow will bring a brand new day.


Tags: Beat, Rhyme, Humor,

Add Comment

stuart gardiner commented:
Nice. Liked it.
Christopher Russon commented:
A really.Nice poem.I can imagine the scene.
Ann Sdono commented:
I really like it.
Cecilia Crasto commented:
Thank you all for you kind comments... much appreciated.
Fauxcroft wade commented:
amazing stuff
Geoffrey Brewer commented:
A delightful narrative poem with strong images.
A previous user commented:
A delightful narrative poem with strong images.
Maria Williams commented:
Good tempo to this, I could well imagine the scene which you so vividly portray.
Frank byrne commented:
Love this grandson Charlie, did a bit of busking on the streets of Leeds,.....I can't walk past a busker without tossing some coins into their takes a lot of courage to put yourself out there......


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