The wise old Sage, with grey in his hair,
Juggled fire with nimble care.
On the streets he would busk,
His skills a sight not to be hushed.
With a twirl and a spin,
He juggled fire, not to win.
But to show the young and old,
That wisdom can be bold.
For in his eyes, a flame did glisten,
A spark of knowledge, better listen.
And as the fire danced in his hands,
The crowds would gather, to hear his commands.
He spoke of life, and love, and fate,
And how through life to navigate,
The tests and trials and tribulations,
That make us who we are, with no hesitations.
So if you see him, on the street,
Don’t pass him by, just take a seat.
And watch the wise old Sage,
Juggle fire, with wisdom and age.
Thank you for reading my writings. If you’d like to, you can buy me a coffee for just £1 and I will think of you while writing my next post! Just hit the link below…. (thanks in advance)
The Sage Page 
Beautiful words, can just imagine a street entertainer, taking donations to his life’s work 🙂
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Thank you! Perhaps a way of getting his wisdom across to a different audience?
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Yes indeed, all walks of life take common routes to walk at times 🙂
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Wonderful, Andrew. I do so enjoy your poems – whenever I see one pop up in my inbox, I can’t wait to read it. The images always amaze me, too. They are always so perfect for the poems you share. I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s offering even now 😊.
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Thanks, as always Ellie. Let me know of you want any more themes or scenarios for The Sage to impart his wisdom! Your style of wrting is much more emotive than mine. I think yours is much more from the heart, I think mine is much to much from the head!
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