As I was walking to St. Cleer's
I met a man with seven ears.
(If you think my claim is the work of liars -
Please listen to my tale with your ears unbiased)
With an ear to the ground, and an ear for a song,
A sympathetic ear for when things go wrong,
He had the ear of a magistrate, the ear of a thief,
An ear for a beggar and an ear for grief.
He told me he'd heard every lie that existed,
Every truth that the intervening years had twisted.
"An eye for a lie, or a tooth for a truth -
Or an understanding ear for the sins of youth?
If I had an ear of corn for every falsehood heard
I could feed the population of the entire world!"
As I was walking down into St. Cleer's
I comforted a man in floods of tears.
His ears were burning red with the sound of his name,
After hearing his complaints I knew who to blame.
And as he wandered off up the well-worn track,
I continued on my way; I did not look back.
© Elwood Herring 14-9-97
Written (entirely in my head) while walking to St. Cleer's, Cornwall
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