The Peddler

He carries a bag over his left shoulder.
You might say it's a ware holder,
for it's full of plenty worth,
but not of any tangible Earth.

You won't find many trinkets in his sac.
Such material items, the peddler lacks.
He just wanders from town to town,
but call out for him and he's nowhere around.

He peddles that which everyone craves,
but for that price which everyone pays.
For happiness in love that you may find;
for a full heart; contentment; peace of mind.

You can thank the peddler for these things,
but there's a price, remember, for what he brings.
He comes to town and a smile greets your face.
Your whole world changes when he visits your place.

Loneliness is exchanged and leaves your heart.
Your life takes on a whole new start,
but soon the peddler must move on,
and before he and his bag are gone,

he must collect his fare.
This is when you pay your share:
Your time; your patience; your communication skills;
They're all now part of your bills.

Some of your desires; your freedom; your yesterday;
They're all in his possession as he walks away.
Someday you might get them back,
but then something else will lack.

The peddler carries a bag of wonders.
He always sells to the cold and hugry.
The peddler knows just what we need.
The peddler is part of you and me.

February 16, 1994