2022.09.24. 11:40, mayden
Papp Zoltn:The Furry Stranger At New York - A Narrative Poem
by Zoltan
One day at a toy shop,
I met a man selling rings,
For money he wanted to swap,
But I really wanted some stings.
"Got any stings?" asked I.
"For that's how I'll spend my money."
"No stings here!" said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.
"We've got some lovely socks,
I'll give you a very fine price."
"I'd rather have some phlox."
The man blinked rapidly thrice.
The man seemed exceptionally tall,
And his manner was strangely amused.
He wasn't what I would call overall,
Great disdain he noticeably oozed.
Like others, he thought I was odd,
Some say I'm a bit furry.
Still he gave me a courteous nod,
As if he thought I was plenty blurry.
So in search of my goal I departed,
But before the toy shop could I leave,
The man came running full-hearted,
"I can help you I believe."
"Rings, stings, you shall find.
Socks, phlox, you can get.
You must now open your mind,
And get down to New York Market.
So to New York Market I decided to go,
In search of the stings I craved.
The winds it did eerily blow.
But I felt that the day could be saved.
There were stalls selling bricks,
Bears in many shades.
There were even stalls selling wickes
People were scattered from many trades
I was greeted by a peculiar lady,
She seemed to be rather furry
I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.
I wondered if she was at all blurry.
Before I could open my mouth,
She shouted, "For you, I have some stings!"
I headed towards her, to the south,
Past some socks and rings.
"But how did you know?" I asked,
"Do you want them or not?" she did say.
Silently, the stings she passed.
Then vanished before I could pay.
As I walked away I hard a crackle
Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?
Tata, 2022. szeptember 24.