Cobbler on the Street

Cobbler 
on the street 
Fixing the shoe
I wore on my feet

He says
It’s the soul 
that’s separated
From the worn out hide

I asked 
If it can be mended
Can it be stitched back
To the way, it was before

He checked it
Inside out
Feeling the texture
Gauging the damage

It’s been trampled
Used and abused
Worn in the manner
So very irresponsibly 

Yet he said, he must admit
The quality was pure
It’s made of a stuff
A lot, which can endure

He opined 
It’s just a bit dirty
however, it’s washable 
and reusable 

But, I can fix it 
only on a new shoe
The leather of the old one, you see
Was tattered, wrinkled and old

But he warned
This time 
you should be careful
And wise

Tread you should,
only on the right path
You should avoid
the filth, that sticks on the soul

Polish it often
And brush away the dust
You’ll see
Clean and well maintained souls
Make an enjoyable walk

The outer cover
The leather hide, you see
Was replaceable 
But soul will stay always

It’s not 
in the shine
Nor in the colour
of the shoe, does the comfort lie

The soul is the essence
of a good wear 
That’s where lies
the fun of the walk 

I picked 
my repaired shoe
Thanked the cobbler 
on the street

My steps were nobler
On the right path 
With the fresh hide, my soul looked
pure and neat

I stepped forth
On another journey
Like many more before
Just a bit wiser 
Just a bit more blissful

The wrong turn

I took a wrong turn 
Ended up in a fair
A beautiful gathering 
Some place I wasn’t aware

We wandered 
Aimlessly 
Yet finding destinations 
At every turn

A lot to see
Many worthy to covet
A happy rug
And old sad urn

There were shows
There were dances too
Some traditional 
Some modern

The crowd 
was getting thicker
The heat was heavy
Poured down by the angry sun

It was time to leave
With a few bags
Of memories 
And few material things

It was a good day
Wonderful actually
It wasn’t a wrong turn
It never is