Museum café rainy day
Killing time another cup
Perhaps a bun then I can stay
Until the manager locks up
Maybe he’ll notice maybe not
Perhaps I’ll stay here all the night
I’ll happily stay and be forgot
Till opening time and morning light
And then I’ll stay another day
A day a week perhaps a year
And from this corner rarely stray
The staff forget that I am here

And others sit around me now
I say hello no answer back
It’s odd when I remember how
I used to laugh and have the craic
But I am happy to be here
My work is done and now I’m free
I do try not to interfere
As I sit back and drink my tea
Today I wandered through the halls
Which were familiar way back then
I overheard two people say
“Whatever happened to old Ben?”
For I am now part of the show
Though not what visitors pay to see
Don’t be alarmed if you should glimpse
A shadow with a cup of tea
Poignant – I wonder if I will haunt the coffee shops I liked.
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I like to think it’s the case that something of us can hang around our favourite places once we pass over as far as others can see.
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Lovely poem. The elderly are often invisible.
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That’s a good angle Pat and one I hadn’t appreciated as I wrote. But so true.
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That is what I like about poetry. Any reader can find an interpretation that had not occurred to us. It gives me (at least) the delusion that the poem may have been a tad better than I had thought.
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I like this !
K x
Sent from my iPhone
>
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Thank you Katherine 🙂
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A really enjoyable poem Roy, I like the idea of him becoming part of a place he’d loved.
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Thank you Andrea. I bet the spirits of a few old librarians hang around the shelves after hours as well 🙂
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This. Is. Absolutely. Fantastic. I’ve read it three times. Lilting. Lonely. Realistic, Found in most any cafe. So well written, Roy!
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Thank you Pam, praise indeed from such an accomplished poet. I’m finding it fun and satisfying, trying my hand at poetry.
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