A Roadside Tale

They stood there by the shadows Two vagabonds should you call, One was a man of honour The other a mongrel small; The winter sun was setting Twilight had crawled overall, The north wind clamoured and howled Dark clouds had suffused their shawl; Few townsfolk shuffled about Hurrying with chores of their day, But none caring to glance at The two who stood by their way; Horse-drawn carriages laboured by As did porters to the quay, None had the time to stand by Caught up in their worldly fray; Ignored stood the wanderers Who once had home and hearth, Their lives blessed with plentiful For it had both joy and mirth; But destiny had beguiled Now they were ever in dearth; They needed food and shelter But could barter not its worth; The two sought caring glances They sought for a helping hand, Pleadings a gentle flourish Like sea-shells upon the sand; Yet, dusk felt their suffering Bats feted them to their land, Stars cajoled from a distance That Venus would wield its wand. Huddled upon a doorway They made a grievous sight, They stood for heaven's mercy Their state a piteous plight; The north wind seemed relentless It rumbled with all its might, Snow-flakes heeded their pallor And left them shrouded in white; A snow-owl spied them at dawn Hunched at the doorway below, Their reverie lay frozen With desires none would know; The mortal world had cared not With compassion's running low, But nature had been kindly Having buried them in snow. The owl mourned their tragedy Sadly hooting at the sun, It resounded like a dirge Alas to hear, there was none! ***********