A Simple Sonnet

A simple sonnet The tramp, who sits on a low ledge, near the entrance of the modest supermarket that sells basic food fruit and vegetable and to my surprise, has a good selection of wine, is ageless The tramp- perhaps a wrong word- has a dark brown outdoor face, his hands a dark brown too, and the rest of him is covered in an old jacket and denim trousers. He is reading a newspaper, eating from an open packet of biscuits and drinking from a bottle of water, our tramp doesn't do begging, but shoppers often give him foodstuff, apples and bananas; which he acknowledged with a thank you but without servility; exudes a warm friendliness that soothed the many struggling with everyday life. There is talk of closing down the relic from the eighties, after Christmas when the nice tramp disappears for a few weeks