Terry Flood Poet Rhyme

Street Life

A box made of cardboard with nothing inside
Came from a shop where white-goods are supplied 
The high street still busy but less than before
When I used to manage the furniture store

The shoppers are rushing to spend lots of cash
They're choosing gifts hoping their choices aren’t rash
The street lamps are lighting as dusk rears its head
And queues in the take-outs await to be fed

Folk rushing now to be home with their kin
Where cosy and warm they will lock themselves in
The pub opens up for its late clientele
I’d go there each evening and lunchtime as well 

Crowds thinning out as the cold starts to bite
And my box made of cardboard is home for the night

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Paula Goldsmith December 21, 2021 at 9:46 AM What a sad but true story/write. No one should live on the streets but many do. Have a Blessed Christmas................ Terry Flood December 21, 2021 at 10:57 AM Thanks, Paula. Have yourself a smashing Christmas. Terry

Gershon Wolf December 2, 2021 at 6:44 PM Willie Nelson's 'Pretty Paper, Pretty Pencils for you...Ribbons of Blue' comes to mind. ~ gw Terry Flood December 3, 2021 at 11:00 AM Don’t think I know the song but as Willie Nelson is pretty much a household name, I’ll take that as a compliment ;-) Thanks Gershon. Terry

Eve Roper December 2, 2021 at 6:23 PM Such a heartfelt verse, Terry, a different type of a poem I am use to reading. Very good my friend. Enjoyed reading. Terry Flood December 3, 2021 at 11:01 AM Glad you enjoyed, Eve. Thankyou. Terry

L Milton Hankins December 2, 2021 at 1:45 PM Terry, I felt sad when I read this one, but, on the other hand I thought how well it is written...sort of ebbs and flows along like ambling down a street. Incredibly fine writing. Terry Flood December 2, 2021 at 2:04 PM Thanks, Milt. I’m glad you ‘enjoyed’ this. I didn’t want to just introduce the box at the end (like in a whodunnit, when whodunnit was a character you don’t recall seeing earlier) but I also didn’t want to give the game away. I hope I achieved that aim. Terry

Ilene Bauer December 2, 2021 at 1:07 PM a sad state of affairs, indeed, terry. your poem works so well, because even though you mentioned the cardboard box in the first line, i was still surprised by the ending. great poem! Terry Flood December 2, 2021 at 2:08 PM Hi, Ilene, as I said to Milt, above. Mentioning the box in the beginning was deliberate, but I tried various writes to ensure that it wouldn’t be a ‘what’s the box for?’ Consideration throughout. Hopefully I got it right. Thanks for your visit. Terry

Rico Leffanta December 2, 2021 at 10:34 AM I always remember seeing homeless people fighting over a wet cardboard box under the bridge at Pont Neuf in Paris; in the end, they all had a piece no one wanted . . . . . Rico Leffanta December 3, 2021 at 9:59 AM "Cold and wet" is how I remember Wales . . . . . Terry Flood December 2, 2021 at 10:59 AM Cold is one thing, Rico, but cold AND wet? They’re welcome to that. Cheers. Terry

Tom Cunningham December 2, 2021 at 3:01 AM We have to count our blessings sometimes Terry, surprised me all the homeless on the streets of Chester. Tom Terry Flood December 2, 2021 at 5:56 AM We have a workman outside at the moment (2pm) and it’s taters out. Wouldn't wanna be kipping in a doorway tonight. Cheers, Tom. Terry