AriqTechnology

Coffee morning foyer
He sits with his guitar
A melody in heartstrings
Played at the breakfast bar

They bring him extra Java
To try to keep him there
And hope that soul-felt music
Keeps floating on the air

He never spoke a sentence
More than a couple words
But all the local patrons
Enjoyed the things they heard

I never once approached him
I never learned his name
Until the day the reaper
Had filed another claim

And now the shop seems empty
Though still I think I hear
Somewhere he must be playing
Among angelic ears.