The coffee lady knows me;
The produce man says hi.
The barber does my haircut
And then gives me a pie.
The train guy lets me stand there
In awe just like my son,
And don’t forget fried veggies
We buy before we’re done.
The farmer’s market animals,
The cuddly goats and sheep,
Are my most favorite things,
But now it’s time to eat!
The burgers and the French fries,
A heart attack for sure,
But it’s good, and a bargain,
So I can’t ask for more!
The coffee lady knows me;
The produce man says hi.
The barber does my haircut
And then gives me a pie.
—
My response to Sarah’s market prompt at
dVerse.
Mystical Strings 
Oh yes…..the circular nature of this…same stanza at beginning and end….really exemplifies the true “neighborhood farmer’s market.” We go to our favorite vendors and they know us by name. We see neighbors and cajole with their little ones. It’s a true sauntering…even though there’s hustle bustle in the market itself. You rarely see someone speedwalking through with bags filling quickly! mmmm and homemade raspberry pie or rhubarb….my favorites! You an always tell by the crusts that they’re homemade!
Getting to know the vendors is one of the best parts of the market. I like the sound of yours.
So evocative, I really want to visit this market!
I would love a marketplace where you are known… it’s like a pub down-town where they immediately know what I want (2 Magners without ice and 2 fish and chips)
Markets have a personal touch and a personality you come to know. Wonderful!
I like the lilting rhyme and pleasant familiarity of this market poem!
Hi Crystal! Very wonderful work! Honest expression shared openly. I am having an existential crisis tonight. I invite you to come visit me, cross my bridge of dreams, and listen to Joni sing like an angel!