Their pitch was in the perfect location
Their routine rehearsed to perfection
and for once – the sun was shining
No problem with people passing by,
or pigeons up in the blue sky
they had a crowd, who cheered laughed and cried
They sung out most of the afternoon
till the dawn of the appearing evening moon
their caps and cups full, with notes and coins
and rendezvoused back in a caff to rejoin
But after their breakfast and coffee and tea
they soon departed from their moment of glee
for after their repast, after singing their tome
they just had enough for the bus fare home
The Inkwell 
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