THE HA’PENNY BRIDGE AND HECTOR GREY

In Dublin’s fair city, where the River Liffey winds, There’s a bridge so beloved, it’s stuck in our minds. The Ha’penny Bridge, a name quite renowned, Where stories and laughter forever are found.

Now Hector Grey, a legend in his time, Sold trinkets and treasures from just after nine, on any Sunday morning where else would you go? but to the Ha’penny Bridge in sunshine or snow, With a cart full of wonders, he’d stand by the span, A merchant well-known to every woman and man.

Old Hector would barter, he’d chat and he’d jest, With wit and a charm that was simply the best. From toys to odd gadgets, and all sorts of gear, His stall was a magnet, drawing folks far and near.

One day, a young lass with a curious eye, Asked Hector about a strange thing she might buy. He told her a tale, spun with magical flair, Of leprechauns dancing and gold in the air.

A pigeon named Percy would often alight, On the bridge’s white railings, a comical sight. He’d coo at the crowds and peck at some crumbs, While kids giggled loudly and beat on their drums.

Once, a fine gent in a suit and a hat, Dropped his fancy gold watch, just like that! It rolled to the edge, the crowd held their breath, But Hector, quick-footed, saved it from death.

The lovers still kiss where the old bridge stands, With whispers of Hector while their holding hands. Musicians play tunes, their melodies sweet, As people cross over on tired, happy feet.

One foggy day, as the mist gently rolled, A poet found magic in tales that were told. He wrote of the bridge, Hector’s fine wares, of pigeons, young lovers, and everyone’s cares.

So here’s to the Ha’penny, a bridge full of cheer, And to Hector Grey’s memory, forever held dear. In Dublin’s heart, where the Liffey does flow, The tales of this bridge will eternally grow.