(Robin In The Hood)

They call me Robin in the hood,

my camp lies deep within the woods,

where my men and I fight for the good,

against the sheriff's rule,

for the sheriff is an evil man,

that with Prince John, works hand in hand

to tax the people of our land

so high as to make it cruel.

Most of my merry men once owned

farms and livestock of their own,

before the sheriff and his men, condoned,

by Prince John, had taxed them sore,

leaving them with little choice but flee,

and join my merry men and me,

to fight for right and liberty,

until the king returns once more.

Alas, until that day arrives,

we must be the thorn in Prince John's side

and harass the sheriff's men each time

they venture here about.

The local people send us word

of things they've seen or perchance have heard,

and when executions will occur,

in the hope we can help out.

Such was the case I now relate,

the woods were still, the hour late,

and though I can't recall the date,

the autumn leaves began to fall;

the night was warm, though it threatened rain,

Will Scarlet sang a soft refrain,

when from the darkened woods there came,

the screech owl's plaintive call.

The signal that a stranger neared,

this was of great concern, for we all feared,

the sheriff's men would soon appear,

and we would have to fight.

But through the woods, our sentries brought

a solitary traveller, they had caught,

that had come to find us and report,

on poor Sir Howard's plight.

He told at length his grievous tale,

though had no idea where they were now,

and we vowed to try to help, some how,

to free this knight again,

then finally, when all was said,

and as was custom, he'd been fed

with venison and fresh baked bread,

he returned from whence he came,

and when he was gone we devised our plan,

that we hoped would save this noble man

the king had pardoned by his own hand,

so many months ago.

But before we left, the man returned,

his family killed, his farm-house burnt,

thus for revenge he greatly yearned,

and we would make it so.

For days we searched then finally found,

the sheriff's escort, eastward bound,

and followed it, making ne'r a sound,

until they stopped to rest,

then I knocked an arrow to the bow,

pulled the string back taunt but slow,

then loosed the shaft and watched it go,

straight to the sentry's chest.

Awkwardly he staggered back,

falling on dry twigs, that loudly cracked,

alerting all to our attack,

and though surprised, they rallied fast,

in fact I'd say with honesty,

they met our attack ferociously,

determined not to let us free

Sir Howard from their grasp.

but my men surged in from every side,

the sheriff's men would yield or die

for the sheriff's sake or their own pride,

whatever cause they chose.

This skirmish raged for half an hour,

yet none would yield or even cower,

before arrow point nor broad-sword's power,

until the final blow.

Even Sir Howard, that frail old man,

fought with distinction, hand to hand,

and later joined our merry band,

when all blood had been spilt.

As for the traveller, that brought the news

of Sir Howard's arrest and harsh abuse,

in battle had been little use,

and sadly had been killed.

One of my men in truth did say

that in the turmoil of the fray

the traveller bared his breast before the blade

and whispered his wife's name,

The loneliness he must have felt,

the emptiness inside himself,

thus unconcerned with his own health,

he embraced death when it came.

Perhaps in truth, it was his wish

to reach no greater age than his,

knowing he would then be with

his wife and sons again.

And who among us here today,

hand on their heart, can truly say

that they would not have done the same

to take away the pain?.

By S.E.Ralph

25-4-2013