On A Busker In Norwich Poem by George Price

Across the street
There's a girl in blue
With shining eyes
And hands that do
Sliding shimmies
Up her guitar.

Through passers-by
She stands there playing
Her twinkling eyes
Glancing, swaying
Behind thick, hip,
Statement black frames.

Life trundles by
Her weedy voices
As she's smiling
Making noises
Reminding me
Of happiness

Around her sighs
Worlds at her beauty
But we all walk
Past like we're free
Not enthralled.
And we are fools.

For 'cross the street
There's a girl in blue
Who doesn't know
I love her true.
Cowardly me
Does not dare say.

And then, one day
There's a girl in blue
Who hates herself
Who thinks we're through
With her beauty.
How can that be?

But now, today,
There's a girl in blue
Smiling freely
As we stand, new
To her reedy
Silent singing.

Oh world, don't pass
That girl as she stands
Melancholy
Dances her hands.
Lover her, oh world
For all else does.