In the Land of his childhood dreams by Elizabeth Elive

By Elizabeth Elive
I met Samson,
The latest employee in the firm.
His kindly rounded face
With eyes lit up by a thousand twinkling stars,
Albeit in the glare of the midday sun,
Turned towards me in a gentle gaze.

His manner was cordial.
The smile that
Quickly spread across the width of his face,
Was genial.
It could melt a mountain of hard ice,
Harder than a hardened heart!
A cluster of sparkling teeth
Peering through the parted lips,
Fitted closely like an ivory piece.
Samson bowed towards me
Seemingly to seal
The ultimate expression of a gentleman –
The lesson learnt at school
About the land of his childhood dreams.

The man carried a massive weight about his waist
That flapped and crashed against the cleaning pale,
Till a rhythm – dull but faint – arose
Against the street noise of cycles and trucks,
But Samson’s goal was only one –
To do the job at hand.
In the land of his childhood dreams.

With dignified gait
The pleasant bloke took up his task,
But his body’s advert
Of his daily ration
Failed to impress.
Cramps that signal the need for the afternoon platter
Have often been quelled by fast food gulped in a go:
The smile returns and the work resumes.
What matters the residue
That pampers and feeds the layers at the waist,
When Samson tackles the stairway
Without slug?
His face lit with contentment
In the country of his childhood dreams!

It sounds meagre, this seven pounds per hour wage!
Yet, in Samson’s view it differs.
A brand-new job on his lap –
the grandiose gift of his employer,
Without need for language nor shelter,
It surely must be good
In this land of his childhood dreams!

But time did elapse and the wages deal too,
Then his pay-out added to the ordeal:
rents demanded,
taxes propounded
fast-food impounded
And before his eyes,
Faster than his heart,
Melted the agency’s kindly wages
Just at the realisation of his childhood dreams.

Peering at his invoice
Samson’s names seem to fade in a gentle haze,
His jobs increased, his tax failed to decrease.
Labour, hunger and loneliness
Became his constant companions,
Without need for the high-pitched,
Sinister tone of the bailiff –
But he was not spared!
Yet in all this, one thing remained:
The smile that lit up his face
In the land of his childhood dreams.



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