Here’s another little piece set out in verse. A dark tale for the hours of darkness. Do give it a read, comment if you so wish, for now here is:-
The Hanging Tree by John Riley/Thomas Flyte
A tender young man o’er by hanging tree
did see another maid on bended knee,
with cut briar rose for one grave urn
and silent thought until weather turn.
When lunar face shining bright and full
and night time beckons at rainfalls lull,
cast in shadow upon hillside mound
beneath tree a man waits his mistress found.
Court does this suitor a maiden so fair
and startles appearing from out of nowhere.
From behind gravestone to offer his charm
while skies turn stormy at nature’s alarm.
Their love did grow from that stormy night
a secret courting o’er full moonlight.
He feels the warmth of her tiny hand
upon the hilltop where they stand.
And so did nature send storms and rain
that crash and bang but all in vain.
Soaked to the skin they dash on foot
to shelter in old gravedigger’s hut.
She steals a kiss from lips so cold
forgetting the things she’s been told.
His skin so pale and ice to touch
now townsfolk cry its all too much.
In unhallowed plots sleep the brokenhearted
necks pulled long when life soon parted.
Bewitched by a love who never dies
those stolen kisses under stormy skies.
All Rights Reserved copyright John Riley/Thomas Flyte
image by CRye