Swindon My Town

By skinner_jennifer

Tue, 27 Feb 2018
  • 3025 reads
16 comments
 

Wrapped in

many layers,

freezing temperatures

don't bother this

uncomplicated busker,

singing like Bob Dylan

amid-st

pigeons flight,

 

been well over

twenty years

since first I saw

him strumming,

those unfolding

hands

letting fall

clink of coin,

 

seems to have

found his niche

down in underpass,

as figures drift...tempting

smell of fresh pasties

that waft

across square

inviting taste buds to buy,

 

toddlers cry;

their expressions

hold key to

tired thoughts,

some figures scatter

race into shops

enticed

to spend,

 

chance meetings

if only to luxuriate in

chatter for one

brief moment,

then

passing time ticks on,

boarding bus

heading home.

 

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Comments

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

an observant cameo of passing through the streets on a cold morning! Rhiannon

 

Submitted by celticman on

ah, life passes us by but sometime we dip in. 

 

Submitted by Pat G on

The shape is perfect - the sound pattern of the strummer.

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi Rhiannon,

I admire buskers who are so commited to playing. The poor guy was frozen and yet still kept on playing and singing, that's what I call devotion.

Thank you for stopping by to read and let me know you liked.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

We sure do Jack. This was on Monday and it was one of the coldest days I've known, but great for a walk into town. I couldn't sit around in it though, which was why I admired the busker who does his thing in all weathers.

Cheers for the read and sharing your thoughts.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi Pat,

I'm so glad you liked its shape and thank you for mentionng sound pattern of the strummer, it's something I never thought of while writing this poem.

Appreciate the read and grateful for your thougths.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

I liked all the details, there is something warm about how you describe everything.

 

Submitted by Ray Schaufeld on

I like the 'tired thoughts' of the toddler.

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi there Di_Hard,

glad you found a warmth in this poem. I'm bitterly cold at the moment as our heating and hot water have broken down, couldn't have gone at a worse time, but reading your words has given me some warmth, so thank you so much.

Jenny. 

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi there Elsie,

I always feel for the little ones being dragged around town when they're tired.

Appreciate you stopping by to read and thank you for sharing your thoughts.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Oh, how AWFUL  for you! I hope you can get it fixed today. And I hope your joints are ok in this cold XX

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Thank you for your caring words Di_Hard.

We won't beable to get a plumber out till tomorrow afternoon so it will be a very cold night, but I will keep smiling smiley and wrap up warm.

Lovely to hear from you.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Hope you are managing ok, good luck

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Many thanks again Di_Hard. Keeping my finger, toes and anything else I can cross that the plumber comes out this afternoon.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Denzella on

Another good poem from you, Jenny. such great description.  I 'm out there with the strummer and you.

Glad to know you are back with heating.    

Moya x

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi Moya,

well the weather is definitely on the change. It's warming up very slowly. Funnily enough I was in town yesterday and the guy who plays guitar wasn't there for the first time since I can remember. He used to have a dog with him back years ago, it would lay on an old blanket and always seemed quite happy with it's tin bowl of water.

It's lovely to hear from you and I appreciate you reading and sharing your thoughts.

Thank you so much.

Jenny. x smiley