The Taylor
The Taylor’s an ordinary man
He spends his time in his workshop
Or on the cobblestone streets, searching
For lengths of exotic fabrics and shimmering threads
His hands are covered in bruises
Made from the pricks of needles over and over
The Taylor’s an ordinary man
He lives a lonely life, sewing and stitching
He looks at the girls passing by in fine clothes
Clad in swathes of silk and feathered bonnets
He wishes he could don his own works
And become a dashing nobleman
The Taylor’s an ordinary man
He loves his regular clients, though they’re an odd group
One’s a tinker, an inventor, eccentric and bespectacled,
One’s a captain of the navy, rigid and prone to his pipe
One’s a simple soldier fighting a war he never signed up for
One’s a poet, a favorite of the Queen’s court, mysterious elegance
The Taylor’s an ordinary man
He’d never leave his job, for who else would provide?
But sometimes he wishes to be in their shoes
To be dressed in finery and pearls, bowing before the Queen
To be at the helm of a grandiose ship, sailing the vast sea
To be in a cluttered workshop, ideas buzzing in his head
The Taylor’s an ordinary man
He knows clothes can speak as loud as words
And so he’ll keep on sewing and stitching
It really is fine, for him to fade into the background
But maybe in another land, he’d be
The hero of his own story.
Copyright © Josephine Ck | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment