Wednesday, July 10, 2013

The Stranger

The Stranger

Come, and I'll tell you a story,
As this is a rainy day.
Sit, and I'll tell you a story,
And the rain will go away.

In a village, once, by the ocean,
As the stormy season neared,
As the villagers stood near the ocean,
A strange little man appeared.

And the mothers and fathers and children,
Who were gathered there, by the sea,
Wondered, how, out of nowhere,
That stranger came to be.

And the bachelors and spinsters questioned,
As bachelors and spinsters do,
If the stranger who'd come was married
Or still was a bachelor too.

And the widowers there, and the widows,
They all had their questions, yes.
But none had the courage to ask him,
Though several attempted to guess.

But he walked by the gawkers in silence
And he never said a word.
But he stopped, as he was walking,
To shoo away a bird.


And every day, for a fortnight,
They would see him walking there.
And though they all were curious,
To greet him, none would dare.

For the villagers all were fearful
Of the ghosts and goblins 'round.
So they'd watch him walk in silence,
And they rarely made a sound.

But they'd note the way he was walking
And the way that he looked as he walked.
And some believed he was human,
But at greeting him, they balked.

He walked with his beard and his belly,
He walked with a waddling walk.
And the mothers, who saw him walking,
They talked their mothers' talk.

He walked by the side of the ocean,
He walked by the side of the sea.
And the fathers, who saw him walking,
Asked, “Who the heck is he?”

And the bachelors there and the spinsters,
And the widows and widowers too,
They would look at each other and whisper,
“Is he like me and you?”

He walked in the evening and morning,
He walked in the noonday sun.
And the children, who saw him walking,
To see him close, would run...


But the mothers would hiss out loudly,
And the fathers would growl out stern,
And the children, who'd been running,
Would stop and would return.

They wondered where he came from,
They wondered where he went.
Three miles to the neighboring village,
No lodgings, there, to rent...

But they weren't bred to be curious,
Those villagers down by the sea.
They'd bless themselves when they saw him,
And then they'd let him be.

He walked by the side of the ocean,
He walked in the sun and rain.
He looked at the waves on the ocean
And he looked at them again.

He walked with a cane that he carried
And he tapped with the cane on the ground.
The watchers could hear him walking
With a softly tapping sound.


And he always walked in silence,
As he never said a word.
But he'd stop, as he was walking,
To shoo away a bird.


On a day that was wild and stormy,
A ship had come sailing by.
And all of the village was fearful
That the sailors all would die.

And along came the man with the belly
And the beard and the tapping cane.
And he walked to a seaside jetty,
In the wind and whipping rain.

He stood by the sea, on the jetty,
And he waved, in the air, his cane.
And he almost lost his footing
But he waved it high again.

He stood by the sea, on the jetty,
And he loudly yelled out, “Shoo!”
And he waved his cane at the ocean
As a crazy man would do.

And as they were watching the madman,
As the villagers thought he was,
They all said, “Ooh!  What happened?”
And they said this loud, because...

The wind, it had died, of a sudden,
And the ocean, it was calm.
The clouds had fled, with their raining.
And the sun was shining warm...

The sails on the ship were drooping
On a calm and glassy sea.
There wasn't a wave on the ocean,
As far as eye could see...


They stared in their awe and amazement,
They scratched on their heads and behinds.
They turned up their palms and made noises.
They asked, “Are we out of our minds?”

And the man with the beard and the belly
And the waddling walk and the cane,
He walked by the side of the ocean
And he tapped the ground with his cane...

They could see that his belly was shaking.
They could hear him laughing loud.
And the children ran towards him,
In a cheering, yelling crowd.

But just as that crowd was approaching
The man with the belly and beard,
He twirled his cane in a circle
And he turned and disappeared.

And that is the end of the story,
Whether you like it or not,
Because, the rest of the story,
Your grandpa has forgot...


But go, look out through the window,
And go and stand by the door.
And you'll see that the sun is shining.
So go and play some more...

2013 July 9th, Tue.
(with a few stanzas inserted July 12th, Fri.)

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