This poem is set on the sherrif who killed the three men. A spooky rhyming read! |
Upton Wood-Parody-from the perspective of the sherrif whom killed the three men. Three months have passed The scars still stay, Marking my pain On that dark day. I was the sheriff I was so bold, Until one night My blood turned cold. I had no choice, It wasn’t mine. For I was drunk Yes, drunk on wine. Three men I hung In Upton wood, Now they’re dead, Their gone for good. A farmer told me They stole his sheep, And now they hang In endless sleep. Three men so young Did not deserve, To live with hades And forever serve. Just when I thought All hell was through, My heart is still, All black no blue. My daughter went A wandering by, That forest where Her end was nigh. I have no mind On what happened there, The cursed souls Dragged her to their lair. I wish she’d lived, For now I’ve died, My heart now yearns To give way my bride. But I've killed the groom, I've killed her brother, Her favorite uncle Was the other. The pains too great, So now I leave. Her mother and I, Our last to breath. Please read: http://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/poems/upton-wood For the real Upton wood Poem, by: MacDonald, Wilson Pugsley |