Go saddle me the black black steed
For I am going on a long long journey
Go wipe away the tears that roll
Across brawny cheeks of gypsie lassie.
Fifteen well made men going on their steeds
To get their brides leap over the strand
The brunt hills in search of a namer
Drying fast to justify conscript of land.
Twilled with a broach and a ring wintry
The death stalks the hill with sickled moon
The leaden sheen on the steed’s back
Has turned the night’s face into a roon.
Late late yesterday I saw the moon
Full bodied like a new sickled maned
The death will stalk these streets tonight
And am afraid of downy owl’s nickled bane.
Come on fair ladies hang your hair down
Over the fair head over the abordour
The fifteen men have gone to castle waste
And along came the death to devour.
Go saddle me the black black steed
The merry castle keep has hovelled a cry
Though death stalks every haste and waste
And brawny cheeks of gypsie have gone dry.
Go saddle me the black black steed
For I am going on a long long journey
Go wipe away the tears that roll
Across brawny cheeks of gypsie lassie.
Fifteen well made men going on their steeds
To get their brides leap over the strand
The brunt hills in search of a namer
Drying fast to justify conscript of land.
Twilled with a broach and a ring wintry
The death stalks the hill with sickled moon
The leaden sheen on the steed’s back
Has turned the night’s face into a roon.
Late late yesterday I saw the moon
Full bodied like a new sickled maned
The death will stalk these streets tonight
And am afraid of downy owl’s nickled bane.
Come on fair ladies hang your hair down
Over the fair head over the abordour
The fifteen men have gone to castle waste
And along came the death to devour.
Go saddle me the black black steed
The merry castle keep has hovelled a cry
Though death stalks every haste and waste
And brawny cheeks of gypsie have gone dry.
Coming upon…
Morose shabby hovelled homes
Heat scorched children playing
Sun bleached innocence
Resolve slowly evaporating
In the arid wasteland heat of
The badlands of Wounded Knee
Brilliant pallid…
Laundry whites on outside lines
A broken spirit of surrender
Sun blanched innocence
The tribal elders sullen smiles
Kilned into perfections ersatz in
The fires of Wounded Knee
Night elapses…
Reprieve called for in the Anepe
Under the stifling desert heat
Sun burned innocence
Dry fields lay across this wasteland
Only the proud Sioux spirit endures in
The shadows of Wounded Knee
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.