Highwayman
The shadows on the moonlit road
Belonged to ancient trees,
But then I saw a hulking form
That made my marrow freeze.
He stood well over six feet tall,
His face was long and lean,
‘Though dressed in velvet like a lord,
His voice was cold and mean.
He aimed his pistols at my breast,
With, ‘Stand and drop your knife.
Deliver all your goods, my friend,
Your money or your life.’
I knew I couldn’t hope to win,
And threw the man my purse;
But then he leapt upon his horse
And rode off with a curse.
The sounds of riders galloped by,
But none were there, I swear;
I heard a single shot ring out,
Thus adding to my scare.
The highwayman would never rest;
But all was still again;
I prayed, and, chilled by thoughts of ghosts,
Continued down the lane.
For Joyce's contest
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment