My Minstrel Man

I heard his echoes blowing thru a breeze
As I sauntered on the cobbled lane
Under the marbled archway I could hear his music wax and wane
Tho I couldn’t see him my curiosity sped my pace
He sounded so sensational I wanted a picture to this showcase
Melodiously marvellous
Harmoniously sweet
Such a softness in his sonorousness
from this minstrel man on the street
Through the narrow tunnel way along past a high sided wall
Up thirteen sand stone stairs
until I came upon my befall

Finally I found him having followed his sheer delight 
As the flickers from the canlde-lit lanterns glowed the darkness of twighlight
There in all glory tho his attire said it all
He was not a man of fortune alas he looked a man of fall
But that baffled me I had never listened to such a magnifent sound
As this musical minstrel stood singing on the ground
On the corner by a lit up lamp post this French man made my heart skip a beat
I felt like dancing and a’prancing tho I only tapped my feet

Just a busker on a beautiful midsummer’s evening on my rendezvous in France
Filled my heart and soul with so much joy with his cabaret of romance
My mellifluous minstrel man made my mission culturally complete
As he plucked his plectrum to his soulful singing in the heat
So I stood spellbound he captivated me in his charm
With his beautiful French accent and an oak veneer guitar in his arm
I guess three hours or possibly more had past by when alas I had to go
Yet I shall never ever forget my minstrel man on my journey to St. Malo