Once with lively joy and pep A bearded man climbed down the steps With twisted hobble on a cane And clambered down the narrow lane. Then with squinted eye a-gleaming Quickened step and face a-beaming Threw himself upon a table Grasping hard as fast as able A figurine with memory’s hold. With jolly temper, eyebrows thick The market man lift up his stick And pointed to the man so bold “That’s quite a lovely catch I’m told” And hastened he with all his glee To pull a coin from out his sleeve And place it in the hand of him Whose smile now flows over rim. “Be this the coin which think it I For ne’er has this come to my eye I thank you kindly for this gift And take your token, take it swift While you with eager mind give this”. “The joy is mine be not afraid Keep that you shall, you’ve well been paid For this an awesome price to pay For me it is a fine, fine day. “And why I ask want that you so to pay with quickness and with gold?” “That you need not ask of I I leave it to nostalgia’s eye And there it rests till yea I die.” “Such gift you give, I wish it so Yet truly I can never know For certainly it must be grand The story of that thing in hand.” “Truly yes I think it so That ne’er shall any other know The story hidden, as it should Though dare I say it is quite good.” “Therefore, I leave it hidden well With yearning heart, but nay don’t tell For there it is and there it stays Until perhaps another day When you with open heart come forth.” “I thank you greatly for this gem For deep in my heart does it stem And there in my mind shall it be Until perhaps one day set free.” “And so good day, I’ve much to do To you my friend a fair adieu You keep it well that thing of mine And think again of other times For long desired it must have been And long sought after now it seems But gracious you have been to me So gladly I give that to thee.” And gladly taken it remains And so with hobble on his cane He clambered back the narrow lane With smile grown from ear to ear And stairs to home now drawing near. But with a sudden glance of eye A figure there did he then spy A figure there in deepened dark An alleyway so grim and stark Yet runs a man through fading light. So slink he does through dirty hall Of rock and rubble mice and all To find this figment of darkness’ eye Mayhap some secret haunting tie. Yet nay a man could he make out So quite confused and filled with doubt He makes his way back alley long When comes a vicious nasty throng Of youthful men with stick and club And most like coming from shady pub To find a victim to ensnare And there in alley rip and tear Such that a man should never bear. So quick and light he sprang from sight In boxes safe yet stunk with blight And there he waits for passersby And hopes to God he slips their eye. To luck’s great scheme, or so he thought His hasty disguise the young men bought And just as he slip out of box The mystery man his sight does clock Go running back across the way And into burrow with cover of hay And man with cane go clippity clop And dive in burrow to that man stop Yet there he sees a frightening sight. For in that burrow duggen deep Is full a room with evil keep With men of cruelty, men of spite All resting there to spend the night To fear of man who fate would fall Now comes a dirty man to call And stops he there by burrow’s door And bends he there but does no more Though looks he feared man face to face. And now to fright of feeble man A wish that far away he ran Yet here he lies in dread and fear And looks he now away to rear. “Come now, Be you not afraid For sure you know to where you’ve strayed Yet think I not to see your face So pale and empty in its place.” “Nay, nay, surely I meant this way For here I’ve spent a many day And here I come yea once again To drink of ale in pleasing den And speak again to long past friend.” “O, truly now you speak to me You of olden times to see The wrinkled fright upon your face A rotting corpse might have such grace! I know of you and yea I too Do know of figure helden you For this a treasure to behold To many, pockets filled with gold.” “I care not he who speak me thus For nay you beat and scourge and cuss Never shall you grip the thing I found today for memory’s sting Is stronger here than any harm of yours.” “If give you me that precious ‘thing’ Than nay shall I cause cursed ring Of pain and torture, then of death And toss on Dead Heap you with rest.” “Nay shall you coerce me thus I feel no fear for say I must That I would rather die with this Than live a thousand year with kiss Of horrid regret still thick in mind.” “Tell me you with such demand For tiny token in your hand Wherefore seek you such an end And how then might I make you bend.” "Never shall I part with this For it to me brings oh such bliss To look upon it fair indeed But for my memory, coals to feed. There are such things which are to me Much dearer than the land and sea This precious thing I must defend So nay I say I shall not bend To you nor any other man." "Than say you now whatever prayer You wish, to God or Muses fair For 'tis to them I send you thus!" And with no sigh or cry or cuss The man's laid down, his figure clutched. |