He whistles a tune as he walks the lanes
Merrily on his way
A man of no means though happy with life
Cheerily winks at the day
His bed that night had been a hay-stack
No blanket but a cow to hug
He hoped there hadn't been the misfortune
For the poor cow to have caught a bug
No change of clothes for he had slept in them
No bath, there was no en-suite
No repair to his worn-out leathery boots
They very rarely strayed far from his feet
His days were a plethora of excitement
As he toured the country by leg
Cadging a penny from matronly ladies
Whilst appearing not to beg
Light gingery wisps of hair graze his forehead
Under a cap that had seen better days
If he had been given the money to buy a new one
He would have said there were better ways
His work would be an assortment of oddments
Digging gardens, picking litter, even brushing the street
Anything that would offer him
Fair payment in receipt
For he felt indebted and had an obligation to pay
The mere fact that he stood there alive
Wars he had visited and crimes on the streets
He held thankfulness that he had survived