“Morning Martin”
“Morning Andy”
“Are you well?”
“Yes, I’m fine. And you?”
“Yes fine.”
These words, so trite but always well meant,
Open the door to conversations that roam
The worlds of books, music, poetry and thoughts,
In the company of a good friend.
We talk of many things,
Things that make us laugh.
Things that make us sad.
Things that make us angry!
We always talk of music,
That blues sound, always in the background;
Occasionally a different sound breaks through,
As the birds squawk at each other
Books are important to us
We discuss what we read.
“This was a good read” say I,
“Yes, I agree” says he.
The Regal, that wonderful place
Where films and shows ‘Regale’ us
With humour, music and tears;
A special place in our town and hearts.
So now we talk of films,
Some good some not so good,
And the occasional one outstanding.
But we speak of them as friends do
I never remember my hair being cut,
We are too busy discussing events.
A short time to catch up with
The things we both feel are, important.
The talk is over, hands are shaken.
“Take care, Martin”
“And you, see you soon”
I walk out with a smile on my face
Having spent time talking of matters
That mean so much to, My Barber and me.