PASTIES

[Gerryswo]

PASTIES

The pastry man places in the window the pastries
he’s certain those who stroll by will see,
enticing them to stop in to buy from his delicious melody.
The colorful frostings on the pastry tops
should be enough to make them stop,
and step into the pastry man’s pastry shop.
Once inside the store
he’s sure they’ll buy some pastries and more
before heading back out the door.
But the bell above the door never rings,
the silence in his store, let’s face it, stings,
and he feels the hollowness this rejection brings.
He arrives by the back every morning at four,
hearing the creaking of the uneven floor
as he leaves at ten that evening by the very same door.
In the interim he makes pastries and pies,
he watches as the people go walking by,
and returns a smile and the wink of an eye.
The pastry man ponders his empty store
as he sweeps the flour from the burnished floor
and wonders how he can do any more.
He makes his pastries only to throw them away,
he’s forgotten how many pastries he’s made today,
and frowns even as he plans the next day’s display.
Outside the people smile as they pass,
primping on their way to work or to class,
never knowing what’s behind the mirrored glass.
Never once did the pastry man hear the tinkling bell,
not once did he sell a pastry, and well,
perhaps the poor pastry man should have learned how to spell.

[dukealien]

PASTIES

The pastry man places in the window the pastries
he’s certain those who stroll by will see,
enticing them to stop in to buy from his delicious melody.
The colorful frostings on the pastry tops
should be enough to make them stop,
and step into the pastry man’s pastry shop.
Once inside the store
he’s sure they’ll buy some pastries and more
before heading back out the door.
But the bell above the door never rings,
the silence in his store, let’s face it, stings,
and he feels the hollowness this rejection brings.
He arrives by the back every morning at four,
hearing the creaking of the uneven floor
as he leaves at ten that evening by the very same door.
In the interim he makes pastries and pies,
he watches as the people go walking by,
and returns a smile and the wink of an eye.
The pastry man ponders his empty store
as he sweeps the flour from the burnished floor
and wonders how he can do any more.
He makes his pastries only to throw them away,
he’s forgotten how many pastries he’s made today,
and frowns even as he plans the next day’s display.
Outside the people smile as they pass,
primping on their way to work or to class,
never knowing what’s behind the mirrored glass.
Never once did the pastry man hear the tinkling bell,
not once did he sell a pastry, and well,
perhaps the poor pastry man should have learned how to spell.

In mild critique, while recognizing the value of volume to create suspense in the buildup, I believe this would work better as about a dozen metrically similar. possibly rhymed, lines. 

By metrically similar, I mean each line could have the same beat, like

   HE puts PAStries IN his WINdow
   SO each PASser-BY will SEE them

perhaps with longer lines or a more  complicated beat, like 

   And watching his luck was his light-o'-love,  the lady that's known as Lou.

Lines with a catchy beat, repeated, are funny.  Robert W Service (author of the above line ) was a master of this.  Perhaps you could combine some of your existing lines and work them around until the results have that kind of beat.

I did notice "melody" as a typo for "medly" in line 3 - a nice touch also dictated by your near-rhyme scheme.

Of course the title (and only the title) gives the game away, leaving the reader itching to find it in the poem itself.  The explanation of the never-noticed mirrored glass is nicely implied.

I guess what I'm saying is that, to me, rhyme and meter go together.  In some cases it's not hard to make changes which regularize the beat:

   as he sweeps the flour from the burnished floor
   and wonders how he can do any more.

with "flour" pronounced like "flower" - please pardon the rewrite.  (I might use "could" in place of "can" - subjunctive, or something.)

The structure - big hint (in the title), patter with clues, then punch line - is clever but, again, a little less patter would help.

A fun story, gives the impression one has solved a puzzle by the end!

[Gerryswo]

Thank you for your excellent critique. I never considered the meter, but I see where it would improve the poem. I'll work on it for Rev1. Thanks again.

PASTIES

The pastry man places in the window the pastries
he’s certain those who stroll by will see,
enticing them to stop in to buy from his delicious melody.
The colorful frostings on the pastry tops
should be enough to make them stop,
and step into the pastry man’s pastry shop.
Once inside the store
he’s sure they’ll buy some pastries and more
before heading back out the door.
But the bell above the door never rings,
the silence in his store, let’s face it, stings,
and he feels the hollowness this rejection brings.
He arrives by the back every morning at four,
hearing the creaking of the uneven floor
as he leaves at ten that evening by the very same door.
In the interim he makes pastries and pies,
he watches as the people go walking by,
and returns a smile and the wink of an eye.
The pastry man ponders his empty store
as he sweeps the flour from the burnished floor
and wonders how he can do any more.
He makes his pastries only to throw them away,
he’s forgotten how many pastries he’s made today,
and frowns even as he plans the next day’s display.
Outside the people smile as they pass,
primping on their way to work or to class,
never knowing what’s behind the mirrored glass.
Never once did the pastry man hear the tinkling bell,
not once did he sell a pastry, and well,
perhaps the poor pastry man should have learned how to spell.

In mild critique, while recognizing the value of volume to create suspense in the buildup, I believe this would work better as about a dozen metrically similar. possibly rhymed, lines. 

By metrically similar, I mean each line could have the same beat, like

   HE puts PAStries IN his WINdow
   SO each PASser-BY will SEE them

perhaps with longer lines or a more  complicated beat, like 

   And watching his luck was his light-o'-love,  the lady that's known as Lou.

Lines with a catchy beat, repeated, are funny.  Robert W Service (author of the above line ) was a master of this.  Perhaps you could combine some of your existing lines and work them around until the results have that kind of beat.

I did notice "melody" as a typo for "medly" in line 3 - a nice touch also dictated by your near-rhyme scheme.

Of course the title (and only the title) gives the game away, leaving the reader itching to find it in the poem itself.  The explanation of the never-noticed mirrored glass is nicely implied.

I guess what I'm saying is that, to me, rhyme and meter go together.  In some cases it's not hard to make changes which regularize the beat:

   as he sweeps the flour from the burnished floor
   and wonders how he can do any more.

with "flour" pronounced like "flower" - please pardon the rewrite.  (I might use "could" in place of "can" - subjunctive, or something.)

The structure - big hint (in the title), patter with clues, then punch line - is clever but, again, a little less patter would help.

A fun story, gives the impression one has solved a puzzle by the end!