Penny Whistle Blues

He sold penny whistles
From inside the little sack
Slung over one shoulder
And hanging down his back
And he filled them full of magic
So for one whole day
Anyone who bought one
Learned how to play

And he taught them to dance
And he taught them to sing
And he taught them jazz
And he taught them to swing
And each penny whistle knew
One hundred tunes and songs
So each whistle player 
Never got a note wrong

And when they were happy 
And had their timing right
He’d pick up his sack
And disappear into the night
And not one of them remembered
What they had seen
And not one of them remembered 
That he’d ever been
 
But they kept the music
Though they didn’t understand
When or where or why or how
Each held a penny whistle in his hand
And he’d walk away unnoticed
Still carrying on his back
One million penny whistles
Loaded carefully in his sack
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

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Bauer Avatar
December 7, 2023 at 10:41 AM
Wonderful, Terry! We all need a penny whistle man in our lives…
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