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This story is best told when shadows fall,
And better yet, if you can dim the light.
It speaks to hidden fears found in us all;
The kind of fear that raises hairs upright.

The way it goes, the woods once held a beast
Who lived to tear his victims limb from limb,
And then upon them delicately feast;
The sheriff of this took the view most dim.

He gathered up the town folk in a group
And handed them a badge shaped like a spear;
‘We must creep in, our monster not to spook.
Let’s make no noise, there’s naught but fear to fear.’

The sheriff’s men, and yes, some ladies too,
Stayed tight together as they started out;
Determined now, and sure of what he knew,
The sheriff rode in front, then came about.

He said ‘now men, I’ll make my stand back here;
You know, these beasts are known to rear attack.
Remember what I said about the fear,
And don’t forget, I’ve always got your back.’

The towns folk muttered softly in their hands,
The sheriff was well known for selfish rules;
Of course, they wished to safeguard life and lands;
But how to rid themselves of spineless fools.

They whispered to each other as they searched;
The plan was hatched with cunning and with guile.
The sheriff was to be the victim perched;
His limbs would satisfy the beast a while.

They marched ahead, renewed with vigor strong;
The sheriff was amazed at this new speed.
Some part of him admitted to his wrong,
But leaning down, put spurs to faithful steed.

Then just like that, the group had circled round
And came upon the monster in his lair;
They whipped themselves from rear to face around,
Which put the sheriff back in front up there.

The sheriff suffered not a little bit;
The monster did not pause to ask him please.
The ladies feigned to watch, it was not fit;
Then all the group returned to their surcease.

So if you are a sheriff and must ride,
Advice is offered here, in fact it looms.
The rear may prove to be the front at times;
It merely rests on who is facing whom.
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