Ripples of smile

A little movement seen, on soft petals rosy,
seated under cherry nose, expressing the mind mostly....
But this time not a word, nor a single syllable uttered,
just slight lateral motion, enhancing plum cheek's blusher....

And the pearls hidding under, a creamy shiny white,
enveloped with rosy petals, making a perfect smile....
A smile that makes him happy, pale gentleman, across the table,
nibbling on dry toasts, reading the newspaper.


But distracted by the quarrel, with wife; a broken cradle,
of his newborn blue eyed son, a blessing from prayers several.
Forgetting the disrupted morning, he walks out the café cluttered,
wearing the smile on his face, tosses a penny at the beggar:

A young wasted violinist, with Juilliard education,
veiling away his youth, outside café - Celebration.
Dreaming about his dreams, of the grand music concerts,
imagining the applauds, by the end, he always earned.


But today seemed better, than the rest of the draggers,
in heart an affirmation, a desire to work harder....
So he played all day thinking, of the great Mischa Elman,
and his basket starts jingling, first time in a few months....


And he sees a lady sobbing, by the river with her son,
an adorable blue eyed boy, who won't sleep a second.
So the happy violinist youth, gives her some pennies he earned,
to maybe see a doctor, for her troubled sleepless son.


But instead she calls a carpenter, to fix his broken cradle,
and as the night crawls in, everyone smile as they cuddle,
in their peaceful cozy condos, letting out a sye of relief,
thinking of their unusual day, a bittersweet experience indeed.