The Stranger

To all of the patrons he was a stranger in the pub in the old country town Though than they were he was known more widely and his was a greater renown Yet none of them seemed to know of him as a recognizable face To them he was just one more stranger a fellow from another place Some of the regulars in small groups casually did glance his way But to him a stranger among them they had nothing for to say He sat there on a bar stool by the counter drinking his beer on his own Yet the stranger among them to many was well known In their small groups they chatted about sports and the greats of football Such things that did not interest him in any way at all On his way to an art exhibition at a bigger town he had booked in for the night at a motel A break from the driving it would suit him well In the Art World his is a widely known name But in the outback town the stranger to everyone is a stranger to fame Yet he felt quite happy to be not known by sight And he did enjoy his few hours out of the limelight Next morning the sun did shine bright on a beautiful day As he drove towards a bigger town along the highway Tonight at the opening of his art exhibition his fans his praises would sing The man who was not recognized where art is not an in thing He was not a player or a member of any sporting club The reason he was not recognized in the country town pub Suppose it is each to their own as the wise one does say This is how it is and it was and will always be this way.