a fanciful story in rhyme
Tha Lady Leanne heard a rumour
“There’s a highwayman out on the loose!”
She knew that if ever they caught him,
he surely would be for the noose.
He was certainly some kind of mystery,
for never a word did he speak,
he merely appeared before travellers,
pistols raised to make them feel weak.
He dressed all in black was the story,
from his head right down to his toes,
except for the pure white bandanna,
pulled up to cover his nose.
They called him the Ghost Shadow Rider,
all anyone saw was his eyes,
and he soon became some sort of hero,
for he always surrendered his prize.
He’d steal all the gold and the jewelery
and carry it off into town,
where he’d give it all out to the poor folk,
still without making a sound.
Then he would vanish for days
but as soon as the rich thought it clear,
once again he’d appear on the highway,
and into their hearts would strike fear.
His horse would rear up in a whinny,
one pistol-shot into the air,
the gentlemen squirmed, the ladies would swoon
the moment they saw he was there.
He’d thrust a bag in through the window,
put the pistol against someone’s chest,
then wait until they had filled it,
before gallopping off to the west.
The Lady Leanne in her manor,
by her father forbidden was she,
to venture out in the dark evenings,
the Ghost Shadow Rider to see.
But one night during the summer,
she crept out and she mounted her horse.
Deep in the woods, she changed clothing.
She was the Ghost Shadow, of course.
(c) JillyHenderson-Long 2020