Giving things away to people!

Giving the Love

I remember the day I went from area to area taking my love around each person I saw and shoving it right in their lovely little faces. They must have thought I was really sweet that day. It was in all different ways. First off I gave it to the shoppers, then to the shopkeepers, who seem to like it lots. Then I would pass it on via dances and songs to people who looked like they needed it more. I would give jigs, japes, performances and fruit. I offered love to people who tried to give it back, but no. "Not having it!" Then I got myself on the busses where I shared with people some words of wisdom. "Give your love away!" I cried, "Throw it around like a ball of expensive confetti, or like seed on the lawn. Even like a sprinkler machine would do with its water." Their eyes did shine and twinkle like stars in the night sky. They didn't really know what had hit them, when I released my ball of super-love, into society. A society which has become more accustomed to a regular scene, a quiet one. Although we are still pointed at when we aren't smiling. Some people hid behind chairs, and others hid their faces under raincoats, because those people were scared of love. Those people were afraid to look at the face of what love is. There was little chance to escape it however, and nothing could be done as people would get off and find a huge kiss planted in each bag, or spare bare cheek. One fellow ran screaming from the place, and dove into a lake. He swam all the way until he bumped into a platform. So many people saw this, and as they cheered and laughed the man climbed up to show his glee. What a cheeky young thing he was.

None the less, the journey took me all the way to Kilburn, and there the streets are full of folk who've never seen power love. A pathway between the people parted like a huge biblical event, and their faces were like a mexican wave of happiness. That is the effect which happens. A young upsart came up tugging at my sleeve and asked, "Mister, mister. Can me an' my friends have a dose of your love?" and i cried, "Yes, at least have some of this wonderful patchwork quilt, " And so tore off a piece much to their enjoyment. Five minutes later, a lorry drove past with his pals ontop, cheering and waving. Generally quite happy.

A group of ladies, pregnant, or young mothers, who hung around the streets, with their babies as armourment, sent a head girl up to see me. "We are but poorly, gypsy lassies, that is what we are. Could you be so kind as to feed us up with your ever increasing food of love, please. You look like such a gentle and kind man. It would make us all our day!" Then one by one, I took a word and whispered it to each one. To the first I heard that she was pleased to hear the word, "Boucherie!" and the last it was a joy to her ears when, "Caramel!" did so pass through the canal of her aural enjoyment. The girls themselves did gather in a doorway, and giggle with each other over which words who had. "I have a 'strategy'," "And I have 'penguin'".

It was not until I reached the end of the line, the end of the road, that some policemen came up to me, with batons. Accosted I stand and they search my voice for signs of loving, and they find that they were correct. "You're coming with us, my lad." They said, “Too much love can damage a street. Pleading with struggles, the crowd gathered, mixing their responses round as I am pulled into the car and sped me through the process of justice leaving me to be stood under the road staring at the people. Longing for to give them all some loving.

Show all stories by   Author:  56927 ( Click here )