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Young Johnny Walford was a handsome man
He possessed a keen intelligent mind
Yet the life he desperately desired
In the end poor Johnny would never find

Lack of education, coal dusted hands
His heart was set on the Miller's daughter
Sadly one night he strayed with Jane Shorney
Made his life into the stuff of fodder

He was forced to marry against his will
Jane Shorney was now carrying his child
He could not bare the thought of forever
Her screeching voice, made him insanely wild

It was but three weeks into his marriage
Our young Johnny couldn't take anymore
He clubbed her on the head and slit her throat 
This was more than they had both bargained for 

He took her body, threw it in a ditch
Then he tried to cover it with dirt
In her hand she clutched a piece of fabric
She had foresight to hold onto his shirt

Her body found there with a hue and a cry
Johnny was dragged in chains through the streets
Hanged on the gibbet for passers by
It is said that a year later they would meet

She haunts both ditch and gibbet to this day
Her banshee voice screeches berating him
Poor Johnny would prefer to be in heel
Her words feel like being torn limb from limb




A Shadowlam production. Great topic for a poem Shadow thanks
for inviting me to write this one with you.

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