On the first day I met the little clown – he was friendly enough.
Piped on his recorder before wending on his merry way.
Then came, in succession, the wizard, the sportsman, the fop, the jester in the coloured coat and the tall one in the scarf.
I didn’t want any of them.
I wanted the mystery man with the umbrella.
He’d promised to take me to the stars.
And so I sat and waited a further seven days, waited for the wheezing, groaning, grating and the arrival.
But he’ll come for me.
A promise is a promise, after all.