Legendary Profitabilty. Poem by ivor or ivor.e hogg

A quiet space a secret place.
A rocky cave in the cliff face.
Which somehow makes you feel welcome.
A hermit once made this his home.

A healer and an herbalist.
The legends say he did exist.
It’s said he never charged a fee
But gave his services for free.

To the poorest folks of his day.
But those who were rich enough to pay
Had to pay accordingly
For medicine the poor got free.

He was regarded with respect.
Exactly as you would expect.
His treatments worked effectively.
Because he knew the properties.

Of every herb both root and leaf.
And which to use to bring relief.
From common ailments of the day
His nostrums drove the pain away.

Although his fame spread far and wide.
He was determined to abide.
In the haven he had chosen
Far apart from other men.

As a hermit ought to do
And to his principles be true.
None knows his true identity
Lost in the mists of history.

The cave can still be seen today
And tourists come from far away.
Perhaps from curiosity
although there’s not a lot to see.

The tourists are prepared to spend.
That’s why the local all pretend.
That they believe the legends true
Because it suits their pockets to.

Sell souvenirs to visitors
at an inflated price of course.
You might well think I’m cynical
The locals are quite typical.

If there’s a profit to be made
Encouraging the tourist trade.
You can be sure they will supply
whatever tourists want to buy.

The legends may or may not be
Well rooted in reality.
What does it matter anyway
As long as it can be made to pay.

Thursday,02 February 2012
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