'Crye' Poem by Christopher Tye

'Crye'

Can you hear their calls,
Echoing across the towns and cities,
Being carried on the wind,
Their cries are as old as the markets and streets themselves.

Can you hear their calls,
Proclaiming their wares and prices,
Trying to sell their goods to the public,
From the greengrocers to the pedlars.

Can you hear their calls,
You won't be the first,
They have been making their cries,
Since the dawn of civilization.

Can you hear their calls,
All of them trying to be heard,
Above the noise of the bustling market places,
Above each other's cries.

Can you hear their calls,
Across time itself,
Across the world,
Across every country.

Can you hear their calls,
Can you imagine their work, in all weather's good or ill,
Can you imagine going to work before dawn,
Can you imagine them pushing their barrows and erecting their stalls.

Can you hear their calls,
They are always hardworking,
They are always overlooked by history,
They are always at the bottom of the class structure.

Can you hear their calls,
From biblical times in Israel,
Across Elizabethan England,
Even today the street traders still ply their trade with their 'Crye'

By Christopher Tye