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Posted on 05/07/2007 3:37:31 AM PDT by Soaring Feather
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Most of the retired guys I know are working at something.
Most of them already had a plan and some stumbled onto neat new experiences.
“Tell me a story, Johnn”
Always for a Lady!
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Bold the Black Rover
Black the night when the moon was hid
and chill the damp of a fall’s rainy night
when its best to be before a fire burning bright
then on the road, among the moors where evil bids
Twas the coach from Dublin that passed that way
loaded with folks tired and cold, and homeward bound
nervous of the road, for its dangers too did abound
hurrying on to make the station near Fish Haul Bay
A robber bold and daring here, made the road his home
and took the gold and silver in toll for the using of his road
as many a King’s man sought the fellow with ill abode
yet he would vanish like a ghost, another night to roam
The coachman flicked the reins to hurry the horses on
his nervousness sensed by horses pulling them faster still
for things came out in the dark, and played upon the will
and all hoped falling night, would find them safely gone
But it were at the high pass, there upon the Tor
the coachman saw the rider, his pistols leveled fair
and the coach stopped all a sudden, as fast as he did dare
the passengers looked upon a sight, remembered ever more
Black the horse, and black the cloak, and mask in the night
and a voice called “Your valuables to pass upon my road”
and he tossed a bag they loaded fast, now a costly load
as silver chased the pistols were, the sword scabbard out of sight
The treasured bag secure, he said “In thanks and come again”
then came the cry of bugle high, as troopers rode in the glen
and the robber laughed and whiled around, heading for the fen
the Highwayman reared his horse, as he fled in the chill night rain
The troop of King’s men rode like hellhound demons on a scent
wanting the Highwayman’s blood, for all the cold nights spent aright
seeking him among the trees and rocks of this Irish land each night
and he was in sight, and they craved the chase following where he went
Among the rocks they darted, and around the black stunted trees
for close they were to the great fen, where things could go amiss so fast
and they wanted not to lose sight of that figure, this chance not to past
and so riding hard to win the night, and bring the villain to his knees
Mist did rise and sounds go weird, as the night added its own hand
and the troopers knew a fright, for the Highwayman seemed encharmed
and who knew what evil lurked in these dark woods, so easy to be harmed
and in the night a faint call, “I’ll thank you one and all to leave my land”
The Captain threw down his sword, angry at the words in jest
the same each time the escaping man reviled the troopers bold
and all there knew another wasted night, another tale to be told
and rode home a wondering if the fellow could they ever best
Black the night when the moon was hid
and chill the damp of a fall’s rainy night
when its best to be before a fire burning bright
then on the road among the moor where evil bids
Good stuff.
One poem can change the world faster than a job.
Brilliant!
“One poem can change the world faster than a job.”
I’d settle for the job right now!!!
Best of luck. Are you out of work or looking for something new?
WOW, that’s a great graphic.
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The Music of Cosmos~Vangelis~Comet
