How the world should be

This is how the world should be
I walked into a shop, and the owner smiled at me.
And as I breached the boundary, she beamed,
The broadest smile, and in she drew me.

I stood, engaged, in a half hour discussion,
At first a bit shocked, a minor concussion.
It's rare in this world that someone stops to chat,
In inner city stores conversation truly lacks.

It took me aback, but stayed I did,
I listened to tales of when recession hit.
No work for a Masters in Plymouth, no more,
But learning to sew made her dreams, for sure.

She wore a tape-measure 'round her neck,
And joyfully weaved her tale in my head.
Her husband a doctor, no jobs on the roster,
So she opened a shop, and never has it cost her.

She's happy, she's glad, she'll never be sad,
She follows her passion and her passion flows back.
And how I admired the bags on the rack,
The dresses, the jewellery, and mostly, the chat.