The Barrel Organ and the Cheeky Raven

Right in the middle of town one day,
a cheerful lady comes our way.
She turns the organ, full of cheer,
while one black raven lingers near.

He stands beside her, proud and grand,
the greatest star in all the land.
He seems to think, “It’s plain to see —
the people really came for me!”

With yellow beak and feathers black,
he guards the organ, front to back.
And in his eyes, one thought is clear:
“A little tip would be nice here!”

The lady cranks, the music flows,
the raven strikes his finest pose.
A gentleman looks rather dazed:
“Have I gone back in time?” — amazed.

The people pass, then stop and stare,
because you don’t see this everywhere.
The organ plays, the raven’s still —
though singing surely takes some skill.

“I could perform,” his expression says,
“and fill the streets with songs of praise.
But if I sang with all my might,
they’d probably close the street tonight!”

So on they go, from tune to tune,
bringing smiles that come too soon.
And anyone who doesn’t grin
has clearly left their humour in the bin.

Because sometimes joy needs little more:
an old barrel organ, wheels on the floor,
a cheerful lady, a raven on cue —
and suddenly the ordinary feels wonderfully new. 😄

Daniel Schönhals