An Optimistic Fellow Poem by Catherine Casey

An optimistic fellow
Sold ice cream at the pole.
He played, at church, the trumpet
As a way to stir the soul.

His plans seemed no too clever
When sales reached freezer pitch.
His trumpet playing scuppered
When he found it in a ditch.

Not to be downhearted, he
Did cartwheels all round York.
While washing every windscreen
Dressed as roman with a fork.

With cheery dispositions
A ‘When to not give in’.
Though foolish propositions,
He accomplished with a grin.

Dark clouds were merely symbols
Of better things to come.
A tear - a chance to comfort
Impossible – just a sum.

His sheep dog not called Lassie,
But Raina for the day.
Assurance in full summer
There be fluffy wool and hay.

He breached the walls of nonsense
With kippers round his waist.
Though seeming unfamiliar
Linking visual with taste.

Starting at the finish line
Where one would put a stroke,
He carried on regardless
Waving fearless artichoke.

For who is really foolish
And who the better man?
Who thinks to ride the sunbeam
Through the soup of Wishy Wan?