The Ballad of Sarah Pike
This is the tale of Sarah Pike
Who lived in a cottage at Hangman’s Dyke,
Twixt Preston and old Burnblack town
She walked the byways up and down.
Travellers stopped to buy her pies
And kissed her hands with gracious goodbyes
Till a gentleman rider on his tall chestnut steed
Strangled her dead in his wicked deed.
Sarah Pike will never go home, Sarah Pike forever will roam.
For four hundred years she walks just the same
The road wide and busy with a new name
But many have driven home in great fright
When they saw Sarah Pike cross the road in the night.
A strange ghostly figure she sobs and she cries
Lost in her sorrow she moans and she sighs
And no-one can save her from her ghastly pain
For the old ones are gone and so is the lane.
Sarah Pike will never go home, Sarah Pike forever will roam.
Copyright © Janine Lever | Year Posted 2023
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