Last Laugh For M 'Lady Helen Poem by ivor or ivor.e hogg

A tiny weather beaten man.
A gnome who had no fixed abode,
he spends his life upon the road.
He wanders freely because he can.

Legally he does not exist.
Nobody knows his pedigree
his parentage or family.
His past is hidden in the mist.

Familiar to everyone
except to blind officialdom.
No man can bid him go or come.
He does as he has always done.

He travels round the countryside
.Content to forage for his food,
he sees no reason why he should
by other peoples rules be tied.

He would work hard to earn a meal.
Always ready to lend a hand
to country folk who understand
Though he’s a tramp he does not steal.

He’d take a rabbit or a hare
without a qualm for they were free
or roosting pheasant from a tree
and tickle trout without a care.

He dines as well as any king
Dame Nature supplies all his needs,
some nourishment he gains from weeds.
He knew the worth of everything.

Which walked or crawled or swam or flew.
Knows where and when to find wild fruit,
herbs and tasty fungi to suit
his taste with which to flavour stew.

A small man self sufficient
in every way a man can be
He lived his life completely free
of any cause for discontent.

He was found dead one winters day.
Became a burden on the state
I’m certain he’d appreciate
that at the last the state must pay.

24-Apr-08