In a small Idyllic town
Lived a small Idyllic man
Who you saw driving
A small Idyllic van.
And in his van Idyllic
He kept his Idyllic gift
And attend the lost and weary
Offering them a lift.
Enter they would downtrodden
And spill out all their woes
He would lend a listening ear
As they cried and spoke their lows.
Out spilling hearts of trouble
To the Idyllic little man
As they bare their problems
Ridding in the Idyllic little van.
And listening intently
With word of comfort here and there.
The Idyllic little man
Would show a little care.
And when the journey ended
And the destination reached
They knew they’d be listened to
And not patronised or preached.
Some would thank him
As they left the Idyllic van
But all would receive a gift
From the small Idyllic man.
He’d open the back
Pulling out the Idyllic gift.
It was a little box
So heavy, they couldn’t lift.
They’d say “how can it take it?”
To the small Idyllic man
With a smile he’d put it back.
In his small Idyllic van.
“You don’t” he said
“I keep it because I cared”
“it contains all the worries
And problems that you shared”
Slightly lighter they travelled onwards
But more freely they ran
Because of a listening friend.
Who’s your Idyllic little man?