Life Lost Its Sheen
Just an old-fashioned busker
with a tattered guitar,
entertained local people
and those from afar.
For years he had stood
in the shopping parade,
bringing joy and delight
with his sweet serenade.
He sang all the old songs
with an Irish accent
and crowds gathered round
his voice - heaven sent!
But one cold winter's day
no busker was seen
no love songs were heard
the Mall lost its sheen.
For that poor entertainer
had disappeared overnight...
the shopping area was ghostly
a gloomy funereal sight.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
Added by Poetry Lover
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