Tommy Tucker was a youth of slight build, seeming younger than twenty,
Which was Tommy's true age; like a lone, silver star, apart from the plenty.

Tommy was well known for his great singing voice, so silky and stunning,
That people paid to hear him croon; like honey throated bees, humming.

But, as it wasn't enough to pay his bills, Tommy retained his daytime job;
As lilies hold their place in lemony sun, in fields where beauty is mobbed.

Fortuitous fate frequently fetched friends, some blooming, fuchsia Fridays;
After rains doled fresh, familiar fragrances, and eve sun slanted sideways.

Fabulousness was another word for family life, in fun days of sunlit fame;
Yet, Tommy had finally found a flat all his own, hoping he'd make a name.

He lived in the house of muffled voices, within the town of the roving wind;
Whistling and singing, and mingling with shouts and giggling, to day's end.

Stars struck a pose at scarlet sunset, on Tommy's street of sunflower sky,
In summer's sweet saga of gold and silver, like the still, dead end of July.

Next door neighbors called on Tommy, in his neat apartment of natural sun;
And as they were nice and never neglectful, he found his niche and had fun.

Tommy was in love with Miss Susan. They had been sweethearts for years;
And he aimed to ask her to marry him, as Sunset trails its heart souvenirs.

Red hot poker plants were sizzling summer, and amethysts in snow, baffled;
Like flashes of diamond in mystery dark, on lanes that mauve rays, dazzled.

Storm hibiscus was raining blooms, when turtlehead plants ambled on wind;
And chocolate cosmos was celebrating candy, a universally tempting friend.

In a harsh blow to independence, Tommy lost his job, his means of support;
Then, lost the girl he wished to marry. She loved another-heartbreak report!

Tommy began to struggle financially, yet, family gave him what they could;
But, he was living off what fans gave him, and free suppers were also good!

The inn where he sang had had a break in. Most of their knives were stolen;
But Tommy's uncle came to support him. Like supportive silver moon, olden.

'Little Tommy Tucker sings for his supper,' Uncle Joe mentioned to a waiter.
'What shall we give him?' asked said waiter. As red dawn queries bide 'til later.

'White bread and butter!' Joe replied. 'How will he cut it without a knife?
How will he be married without a wife?' asked the waiter. Variegated life!

But, they needn't have worried, for Tommy rallied, determination rewarded;
And he got a better job, and got a new girl, her love solely to him afforded.

So in love, Tommy soon did marry, as scent cherry blossoms married spring;
And soon he could live by beautiful melodies alone, for he was born to sing!