The Seller Of Dreams Poem by Angela Wybrow
The Seller Of Dreams
A customer once asked me
‘Do you sell dreams? ’
By his request, I felt quite amused,
But, also rather somewhat confused.
We sell buckets and bleach
And tins of baked beans,
But, as far as I know,
We’ve never sold dreams.
We sell candles and cola
And custardy creams,
But, I’m pretty sure that
We’ve never sold dreams.
We sell pot noodle and plates
And paper in reams,
But, I can almost swear that
We’ve never sold dreams.
We sell clothes and paper clips
And cloth wipes which clean,
Is it even possible
To be a seller of dreams?
The man then informed me that
He meant ‘Dreams’: treats for his cat!
Oh, how I laughed once I realised:
I even sprung a leak from my eyes!
The customer moved off after a while,
But, upon my face, there remained a smile!
When I bought a tin of dog food for my dog I said to the check out girl I was cooking a curry for my friends. She thought I was serious. A lovely poem that put a smile on my face.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 10:41:47 PM # 1.0.0.1119
There comes a smile in my face too! A good piece.