The Peddler

I feel full

You may even say overflowing

I want to pour out

Spill over

Make room

So I do not forget


I bring rattles and planes

Clowns and dolls

Soldiers and trains



Face paint

I have laid it all out

In neat order

I sing and chant

Passers-by hurrying


Rushed and with purpose

No time to stop

To sit and be amused

Families to tend

Gardens to water

No time for the peddler

I gather up my things

And my thoughts

In silence


Who am I to give to another

The complete will always have

The emptiness within

Let me try the next village

The next market

Maybe someone there needs

A rattle

Or a clown

Published by ElusiveSilence

Always wondering....

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