deepundergroundpoetry.com

Simple Pleasures

On the border of a little town near Boston, a busker sleeps in an abandoned boxcar,      
a bunker from the brutality of the busy streets; the bane of his bitter existence.

With a banjo by his side, a bottle of booze in his hand, and a dirty, blue bandana tightly wrapped around his head, he dreams of better days, when these blissful moments were experienced in far less brevity; Long before a brush stroke of bad luck painted his skies from blue to grey.

Under the bright moonlight, he dreams of times when life was simple.        
Of benevolent sunrises over lush, green bovine fields...        
The smell of bacon cooking...        
And coffee brewing at breakfast time...
A warm embrace...        
A familiar face...        
A comfortable place...        
Of the simple pleasures that make life worth living.

And there in that boxcar, under the light of the moon, he felt happiness again, if only for a moment.
Author's Note
This was written for MadameLavender's 'Through the alphabet' challenge for the letter B.

I was kind of stepping outside of my normal style with this one, mostly due to the fact that the poem had to feature specific words, some of which I rarely, if ever use (perhaps that was the point). Here is the list of words that were required:

Boston
Blue
Bandana
Bright
Brevity
Bovine
Brush
Boxcar
Banjo
Benevolent
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