
He was a squat old man,
As wide as he was tall.
Dapper in his ulster and chapeau,
The brim pulled down just so.
His rakish smile as debonair
As his chivalrous hand kisses,
As elegant as his cavalier bows.
With a tip of his hat, and bent knee,
He charmed the ladies, entertained the gents
Passing his day quoting The Bard,
Conversing in iambic pentameter.
When winter came, and he had no shelter,
All they could remember of him was…
He wore a faded brown fedora.

He could be Leonard Cohen…if he wasn’t as wide as he was tall. Very nice.
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Oh he sounds lovely and charming and completely worth writing about (and remembering)
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Enjoyed it! I just looked up “ulster” on my Kindle recently while reading Oscar Wilde. š
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Bravo!!
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Great take on the prompt/inspiration. You made it a character, a memorable one.
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I love this . . . So much. It made me both smile and shed a tear or two. Beautifully heartbreaking.
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Smiles. Just perfect.
xo jj
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I love your prose. Have I told you that lately?
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Lovely Tara. YOu have such a gift. Thanks for sharing.
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