Friday, June 1, 2007


The popcorn vender is a man
Who needs no special art,
But two strong arms and sturdy legs
He needs to push his cart.

He trudges 'long his daily route
With slow determined pace,
And now and then he halts to wipe
His hot perspiring face.

The children playing near their homes
Observes him on the street,
And with a coin clasped in their hand,
They scampers for their treat.

He serves each one a bag of corn
So crispy, moist and sweet,
And with a smile for every child,
He proceeds along his beat.

The children are his customers,
He never robs or cheats,
At every block the youngsters flock
The popcorn man to greet.

And when the sun has sank to rest,
He homeward wends his way,
And there he rests his aching feet
Until another day.

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