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.