The Fast Stranger At Green Way - A Narrative Poem

One day at a toy shop,

I met a man selling marbles,

For money he wanted to swap,

But I really wanted some barbels.

"Got any barbels?" asked I.

"For that's how I'll spend my money."

"No barbels here!" said the guy.

He seemed to find it quite funny.

"We've got some lovely bricks,

I'll give you a very fine price."

"I'd rather have some dix."

The man blinked rapidly thrice.

The man seemed exceptionally weak,

And his manner was strangely amused.

He wasn't what I would call sikh,

Great disdain he noticeably oozed.

Like others, he thought I was odd,

Some say I'm a bit fast.

Still he gave me a courteous nod,

As if he thought I was plenty aghast.

So in search of my goal I departed,

But before the toy shop could I leave,

The man came running full-hearted,

"I can help you I believe."

"Marbles, barbels, you shall find.

Bricks, dix, you can get.

You must now open your mind,

And get down to Green Way Market.

So to Green Way Market I decided to go,

In search of the barbels I craved.

The winds it did eerily blow.

But I felt that the day could be saved.

There were stalls selling apples,

Apples in many shades.

There were even stalls selling apelles

People were scattered from many trades

I was greeted by a peculiar lady,

She seemed to be rather fast

I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.

I wondered if she was at all aghast.

Before I could open my mouth,

She shouted, "For you, I have some barbels!"

I headed towards her, to the south,

Past some bricks and marbles.

"But how did you know?" I asked,

"Do you want them or not?" she did say.

Silently, the barbels she passed.

Then vanished before I could pay.

As I walked away I hard a crackle

Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?