He made the children laugh and made them cheer,
The silly things he did were so much fun.
Then he would wave and quickly disappear
When it was over and his turn was done.
He'd go back to his lonely caravan,
He'd kiss her photo as he did each day,
No longer clown but just a hurting man,
He'd wet a cloth and wipe that smile away.
He made them laugh but didn't laugh himself
As he had done when she was by his side.
He still kept her belongings on the shelf,
Reminding him of when she was his bride.
Remembering how she had made him feel.
He smiled again - and this time it was real.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent poem Terry great images it conjured in my mind and such a great concept for a story. Brilliant. Séamus