I wonder, where can he be? It was the night before the big celebration, and everyone was sneaking around. Looking for tape, scissors and ribbons, to wrap things as gifts. for people in their town.
I had ran out of money, before I had left the bar, The weather was cold and I had left my coat in the car, The keys were in the coats pocket, and tree branches were swaying from a hard blow. Who, on a warm sunny after-noon would have thought it was going to snow?
That was when I noticed that cool breeze, coming from the north, and the sounds it made coming through the trees, but with all this alcohol in my body, I was not going to freeze. I staggered up and down the street, for a hours or so it seems, that was when the wind really started to blow. My cap went a flying from my head. And most likely is still a going, looking for a bed. Street lights were flickering and the people didn’t know, if they were coming or a going in this heavy snow.
The store on the corner, had pulled down their shades, customers and sales people, were struggling though the maze. And this old winter was doing it’s best, to rune the last day of the week. With lips turning blue, and cherry red cheeks, was when old bones had started to creak.
When nature gets mad, there is nothing you can do, maybe go back to the bar a find another stool, and set your self down and look the bartender straight in the eye. Ask if he can remember what old Abe had said, about telling a lie? I have no money, but a drink I do need, I have these three Marbles, that are one of a kind , I’ll let you keep them until money I can find.
The bartender took them in hand and reached for a glass, to see if these marble had any value or class. He filled with excitement and started to jumped up and down, Two were diamonds in raw, worth thousands of dollars to be sure. But tell not the guy that wants to trade. Tell him the marbles are worthless but you will trust him for the money, until the end of the week. Now find something that looks just like the marbles and exchange them as fast as you can. The person that had them, must not have known they were Gems, what he had in his pocket, you now have in your hand. Who can be trusted, a church tending bartender, or a little old thirsty man.
The old glass blower once again works his little scam, And with a belly full of drink, he takes it on the lamb. The moral, of the story is: if you play with marbles or serve drinks, in a bar stay away from Dead Politicians and bury them in tar.
By; Ben R.
I had ran out of money, before I had left the bar, The weather was cold and I had left my coat in the car, The keys were in the coats pocket, and tree branches were swaying from a hard blow. Who, on a warm sunny after-noon would have thought it was going to snow?
That was when I noticed that cool breeze, coming from the north, and the sounds it made coming through the trees, but with all this alcohol in my body, I was not going to freeze. I staggered up and down the street, for a hours or so it seems, that was when the wind really started to blow. My cap went a flying from my head. And most likely is still a going, looking for a bed. Street lights were flickering and the people didn’t know, if they were coming or a going in this heavy snow.
The store on the corner, had pulled down their shades, customers and sales people, were struggling though the maze. And this old winter was doing it’s best, to rune the last day of the week. With lips turning blue, and cherry red cheeks, was when old bones had started to creak.
When nature gets mad, there is nothing you can do, maybe go back to the bar a find another stool, and set your self down and look the bartender straight in the eye. Ask if he can remember what old Abe had said, about telling a lie? I have no money, but a drink I do need, I have these three Marbles, that are one of a kind , I’ll let you keep them until money I can find.
The bartender took them in hand and reached for a glass, to see if these marble had any value or class. He filled with excitement and started to jumped up and down, Two were diamonds in raw, worth thousands of dollars to be sure. But tell not the guy that wants to trade. Tell him the marbles are worthless but you will trust him for the money, until the end of the week. Now find something that looks just like the marbles and exchange them as fast as you can. The person that had them, must not have known they were Gems, what he had in his pocket, you now have in your hand. Who can be trusted, a church tending bartender, or a little old thirsty man.
The old glass blower once again works his little scam, And with a belly full of drink, he takes it on the lamb. The moral, of the story is: if you play with marbles or serve drinks, in a bar stay away from Dead Politicians and bury them in tar.
By; Ben R.
11/3/2010
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