all called him Danny The Sandman,
from the places we'd find him asleep,
he'd sleep on the ground or anywhere he laid down,
on your porch, in your swing or beneath your tree.
Danny Boy was a lad of adventure,
although seldom trouble he got in
and all the bad dogs in town would just smell of his hand
and they'd never bark at Danny Boy again.
could walk up to a sheer rank stranger
he'd say, "Hello Mister, they call me Dan".
Then he'd crack that smile that would just melt
and right there Danny Boy made a new friend.
been many year since little Danny left us,
you see his folks they moved out of these hills
but that smile that he wore when he walked thru my store,
will thrill me as long as I live.
R Quinn I 1965