The story behind Ollie.

This is the just a synopsis of the man Ollie. Phil i see you were curious about him in Marcalans piece.

So this is a piece i wrote about Ollie some time ago now. Ive also added his photo so you can see this legend of my childhood.
Its a long piece i hope you all enjoy reading about him. Heres some  Pictures of Ollie.
http://picasaweb.google.com/lena.odonov … directlink

Rock on Ollie.     Helena Donovan.
In the sun, snow and rain, he’s a legend round these parts
Ollie is his name, drives a big ole horse and cart
He rides these plains his prairies, like in the old Wild West
But The wares he sells are coals, dug from the deepest pits.

His bridle brasses shiny, so unlike himself
His coat’s held with twine, a beard grows on his snout
He rarely talks to strangers, we've known him since a child
  Blackened  coal dust lies in Ollie’s cobalt eyes.

  Outside the Guinness brewery, His image is much loved
The tourist takes his photo, then money they will shove
into his grimy hands, coz there delighted with the shot
Ollie grins, he knows, making millions is his plot,

I’ve often seen him chuckle as he pockets what they hand
He winks an eye, tips his hat, “God bless ya, thank you Mam��
He’s the relics of ould decency, of Dublin he is part
Strikes a pose on ancient cobbles, like a modern piece of art.

  His only love his horse he never took a wife
Ollie monitored   times, as he rode his way in life
All the money he collected never was in vain
Coz Ollie bought up property the real collectors gains.

Me Mam and I once met him, wearing a mohair suit
Me Mam said, “Look you at you Ollie! aint you the handsome brute��
He always acted bashful, but that day his head held high
His blue eyes twinkled merrily, as he straightened out his tie.

“Tis it a wedding you are going to? I hope it’s not your own?
My Helena would be fretting now; she was hoping she’s   the one!
I blushed, as me Mam was doling out the wit
I did see Ollie hesitate, just a wee wee  bit.

I seen him just the other day, I thought about his Ma
Her gigantic coloured picture hats modelled going to mass.
Her lipstick was as Betty boops, but not just quite in place
Sure eccentrics never notice when coal dust masks their face.

Ollie’s part of  History,  One of Dublin’s rarest kind
He’s mentioned now on forums in these cyber times
They ask , “Is Ollie still  alive ? From  all around the globe
Ollie’s Velcroed to our childhoods, in this very different world.

We say “Rock on Ollie  as we see him on his rounds
Honk our horns from motor cars, in a friendly greeting sound
He salutes, mutters something, then waves a blackened hand
This makes me smile, reliving memories with this tapestry of man.

Thank You "

Old Doll