All good people will lend their ear
Listen carefully to what they hear
In a quiet tavern after sundown
A full moon sat yonder as a crown
Guests puffed on corncob pipes
Suitors had females in their sights
Sound of laughter filled the room
Someone soon to become a groom
An old geezer played on a violin
Pipe smoke rose high over the din
The thief boldly invaded the night
Wishing to give everyone a fright
Honest men had sat down to dine
Had taken in hand a glass of wine
‘Twas a thief unprincipled as ever
The virtuous man’s tongue to sever
The thief shouted out many curses
Your lives, you dogs, or your purses
His echo sounded like a final psalm
Reading crooked lifelines in his palm
One sullen guest rose with a shiver
Seeming ready to stand and deliver
Standing back in the thief’s shadow
Every movement focused and slow
In his hand wrapped a silken cord
The thief held a sharpened sword
The corded rope glowed in the dark
The shining sword gave off spark
The moment froze like a magic spell
Ready to reveal what it had to tell
An unexpected thing happened then
That fully baffled the roomful of men
The cord wound round the thief’s neck
His eyes narrowed to a minute speck
His organs of sight now lost their lustre
As his attacker gathered his muster
Both sword and thief fell to the floor
The evil life he lived was now no more
The country tavern was quiet no longer
Songs of praise could be heard far yonder
I love this story/poem!! I remember a "hometown bar" where, when a large company that everyone in my hometown worked at would have "wildcat strikes" (Union). Some crazy guy would get drunk and shoot at "scabs". Memories!!
This made me think if the old song "Once upon a time there was a tavern" I always found them dingy and dark, not my sort of thing, I'd stick to Mac Café thank you xo
This is the first story poem that I read from you in some time. And I like it much better than many of your others for its lilting way of following the story so precisely and beautifully. I'm sure you could recite this one at one of those hip-hop poetry slams and they would all love it!
Interesting write. Back in the day I did some am boxing, and every time I went into a bar, there would be somebody who wanted to fight. And that's why I quit going to bars. I just wanted a drink and not get into a fight with some idiot.
Nice tale. Reminds me of a less serious "Boy Named Sue" tale, except the son "cut off a piece of his ear" and they fought in the "mud, the blood and the beer". Of course, I always relate stuff to Johnny Cash where possible, LOL!
Dan
Hah! Quite a hero with that ever present sharpened sword, in my day it was a switchblade . . . eh . . . got the job done anyway. Loved this mastery over evil poem, John..
This is not at all like the taverns I used to visit where fights broke out every 10 minutes. I lost out in every one that involved me. But then, I never had a rope that glowed in the dark. I have since, however, developed a wicked left hook. Bring on the action!
This book represents a thirty-day period of my poetry journal. Each poem addresses
the dominant thoughts occupying my mind during the early morning hours of a given
day.
From the author of Jupiter Remembered and Until It’s Time: Embracing Life In Our Later Years comes Petals of Love: Poetry of a Woman’s Soul – a heartfelt collection spanning more than thirty-five years. Through tender reflections, these poems offer g
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Love ya!
Jane
Ron
Dan