Le Flaneur

Traverse the meadow, cross the brook
Le flaneur goes a strolling
Sweep of the land taken in with a look,
Stopping to note the view in his book
The life of the idler's ennobling.

The city park presents different views
Le flaneur takes all in his stride
Ladies promenade, old men read the news,
At the ice cream van children form queues
The loafer goes a-loafing with pride.

Such dawdling days are numbered now
Le flaneur is on his last legs
We ran out of time to reflect somehow,
'Time is money' I hear you avow 
Le flaneur no more strolls, he just begs.