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 Other Poetry



DonatePrivateId: 12629.07.2008
By:  GHKadmin  
The Last Hold Up.
Out of the morning mist,
The cobblestone were kissed
By eight greys powered at full leather
The drivers bugle blast
Piercing shadows from the past
Came clattering down hard on trace for loss of tether
Rolled away from Newark at dawn
On a cold grey frosty morn
The north road beckoned harsh before them
We’ll be drinking ale in York
well before its dark
The coach toppers voice echoed to assure them

Fetlocks stung by gravel plundered
As round the bend they thundered
The hoofs on Smeatons Bridge they heard were pounding
The eerie echo the locals say
Is still heard to this day
To another waiting this was his time for sounding
Beneath the arch that day
His silvered pistols held at sway
Sat astride his steed as the coach passed over
His mask pulled up to his face
The highwayman gave chase
Silently hauling in the coach where the road grassed over

The topper looked down to port
His nostrils seen to flare and snort
As a grey and ghostly figure out of the mist came looming
With sword thrust in his side
The coaches’ progress was denied
What trinkets he would win today he was assuming
The highwayman sat beaming
His silver holstered pistols gleaming
As the rising sun rolled away the last of the misted morning
A daunting figure with horse and hose
He eyed the shuttered doors were closed
The driver he beckoned down him to assist with warning

The shutters opened left him to gasp
His pistols he went to grasp
The sparkle left his eyes and stared in wonder
Three musket barrels were shown
His task he knew was blown
That one split second when plans are rent asunder
Three musket barrels spoke they said
Charged with shot full of lead
His chest of tearing flesh and splintered bone with full force
Thrown back off his coal black mare
He landed with riveted stare
As the ones who thwarted his plans with full recourse

If you walk the north road today
You’ll here faint hooves pounding away
Or the muffled roar of something firing in the distance
A ghostly figure is sometimes seen
With coal black horse sharp as sheen
Do not worry he will pass by without resistance
Contact:
GHK Poetry

Email:  info@ghkpoetry.com


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