Listen to On The Fiddle now – just press on the link below.

Playing the fiddle

he walks the tight rope

strung between two lamp posts.

With over painted mouth

and yellow hair

dancing attendance

his bow catches

an uncertain sound

drowned by the man

with the band

playing the blue tuba

outside the Pavilion.

He tempts and teases

smiles down at passers by

Later he waits for the bus

catches his reflection

in a window

a painted smile and

black crossed eyes

stare back.

In his tiny attic room

the show is over

his image melts in the mirror

with Crows Cremine

and Kleenex tissues.

Time for a beer and to disappear!