Frank James Ryan Jr...FjR
Any Sunday Afternoon On Williamsbridge Road In The Bronx(With Strings Attached) - Poem by Frank James Ryan Jr...FjR
The jingle and jangle of primary colours,
A lemonade stand for a stage, and cover.
Puppets descend to the makeshift stage,
of cut-out cardboard in vintage beige.
Strange principals, clad in colorful suits,
From their feathered caps to their dancing boots.
And dance do they ever, with dangling bells,
In sizes and shapes that resemble seashells.
Flipping and twitching to the movement of hands,
All hail as the marionette-man takes command,
Of a many child's chimerical mind,
Barnum & Bailey can't match this sublime!
With ants in their pants, on wood milk-crate seats,
They shuffle like St. Vitu's Dance, with their feet.
Their discus-shaped, pie-plate, comet-bright eye's,
Lite their verve-filled, laugh-spilled, hot-pink cheek guise.
Each puppet in sync, each child in awe,
Smiles escape from their lips to their jaws.
Their imaginative senses in full overdrive,
The Puppeteer Man has them all mesmerized.
They're so real...Super real, said one little boy;
They couldn't be...ever be, mere dancing toys.
And then, though just hear-say, while standing alone,
I heard a little girl tried to carry one home!
All of them trancic, to the street-corner show,
Not a parent so brave as to say: 'Time to go'!
Now, late afternoon, with the sun leaving town;
It's time for the encore....Send in the clowns!
The melodious jingle and jangle on stage,
Has captured each child's fixational gaze;
From the art of 'Touch' of mere human hands,
To the strings of puppets, on a lemonade stand.
And, all this for free, with a vow to come back,
As if any child, had a problem with that.
Any Sunday afternoon, on Williamsbridge Road,
In the Bronx, with strings attached, so I'm told!
© 2015-All rights reserved
Frank James Ryan Jr. / FjR
Frank James Ryan Jr....FjR
Comments about Any Sunday Afternoon On Williamsbridge Road In The Bronx(With Strings Attached) by Frank James Ryan Jr...FjR
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe