THE SINGING VAGABOND : SONNET 152

          The Singing Vagabond

Sometimes by a solitary road, sometimes

Along a dragging street, smart thoroughfare;

With many a note of rhythms, tones, and rhymes,

That I do sing, my soul in light or dark bare.

And my renditions haven't been heedful wandering 

Into forbidden wastelands, wilds, or graveyards;

And no hissing, roaring, cooing, or chirping,

Of humans, animals, insects, and birds,

Has shaken my songs -- in mournful elegy,

Or prayerful hymn, or exultative paean --

Though none have heard me yet or seen me

Singing, inside my car -- a childless man

Inside the vagabond van, much sweeter home,

Than mansion, that conceals my grief and gloom. 

©️ N P Samal