Ochota BazaarA Poem by A.A.RomanczukWarsaw is split into districts...each has its own open market still :)Mismatched colors like a parrot Screechy rustic dialects Swishing skirts and impatient gestures The art of bartering cannot be bought Touching and tasting produce is a must Into a sea of seekers I am thrust A little Grandmother in kerchief bundled Has wild mushrooms highly sought But for a price to twist your britches And unhinge your hinges A diminutive Russian tries to sell poorly soldered kettles I admire his mettle The energy with which he lies Praising his kettles (aluminum no doubt) to the skies The mountain people sell their sheep skins and sheep's cheese An antique salesman has USSR relics That's not my taste, if you please Red apples, green apples Exotic pineapples Pineapples? Mangoes? Quixotic! I'm hunting for red currants and sour cherries Apricots and plump gooseberries I desire a fat Polish cabbage to make a tasty soup I take an alternate route A long, exaggerated loop To find myself near the flower women Orchids, cacti, these they guard and others unknown I'll take a two zlotys bunch of wildflowers homegrown Wildflowers are sweeter Whatever you seek for, remember... Everyone's potentially a polite cheater If you are not shrewd But that is part of the game, part of the bazaar mood
© 2010 A.A.RomanczukAuthor's Note
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6 Reviews Added on November 19, 2010 Last Updated on November 19, 2010 AuthorA.A.RomanczukNJAbout“A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.” - Oscar Wilde Feel free to check out my first publis.. more..Writing
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