The One Who Pays The Piper Poem by Alan S Jeeves

Pipe me a tune I can dance to
Or play a lament, as of old.
And pipe you a song
Serenely and strong
For then, I will pay you in gold.

Pipe, at the early of morning
Just as the sun forces through.
Then, stand you alone
And quaver your tone
For a sovereign, I'll offer to you.

Pipe, at the lull of the evening,
Play you the sweetest refrain.
As darkness is cast
You pipe you your last
For I shall not pay you again.