High on the gallows he stood his death near
the rope tight around his neck!
Reflecting on how he ended in this position
from a respected shop keeper.
To conspirator against his beloved country
his innocence no bargaining plea!

Within just a few seconds would live no more
conversations with customers.
Were overheard and misconstrued by some
as plotting against the crown.
Speaking his mind on the increasing unrest
mostly said only in jest.

Word soon got back to parliamentary forces
and action followed swiftly.
He and the few other so called conspirators
were dragged into court.
Tortured to confess to what they'd not done
freedom would not be won!

Humiliated and shunned by those once friends
his family had to escape.
Within those endless unbearable few weeks
each one anded up here.
With his last breath shouted out it was not true
trap door opened he dropped through!

Innocent or guilty to him it mattered no more!

The Foureyed Poet.

Even as a young child the narrow lane
was a place of fear.
I'm never at ease when I come back
and travel the route.
Nothing has changed that I can tell
a path to a dark spell.

My parents farm is situated at the end
called hangman's noose!
Which made me curious why this name
had always been used.
Often I'd seen a lone woman walking
but faded as I tried talking!

My friends had seen her to and reluctant
to tread that path again.
None of the locals ventured along there
the superstition ran deep.
Strangers often took the wrong turning
tyre rubber soon burning!

Though not all got safely back on track
some swerved and crashed!
Into an old tree halfway along the lane
none of them survived.
Stories written of malevolent forces
told to me by reliable sources!

Never in my memory did I ever feel alone
going down the narrow lane.
Oppressive and barren voices in the breeze
my parents still live there.
They knew more of its past than they'd say
our ancestors under the lane lay!

My father said for sinful deeds they'd done
this would be your curse to son!

What these were the answers I've yet to discover!

The Foureyed Poet.

Deep in thought life's adventure has begun
finding when to be serious.
And when you should be having some fun
bombarded by modern living.
Feeling the pressure laid out in front of you
who is genuine and true.

Forming relationships with great expectations
but Tess at your tender age.
Surely the challenge of living can be thrilling
learning how to be let down.
Your horizons are widened now you own a car
time to follow that guiding star.

Explore and refresh each and every new sunrise
focus and enjoy the wondrous world.
Most decisions are defined by our endeavours
highs and lows part of the course.
Be determined in your destiny always smile
travel through life mile by mile.

The Foureyed Poet.

A couple on holiday in Las Vegas city
decided to hire car.
And take a trip into the vast desert
objects they hope to see.
Hearing much about the secret base
their journey gathered pace.


Racing away from the city excitedly
without expectation.
But hoping there could be a sighting
for them to remember.
Excited with the anticipation and fun
roof down enjoying the sun.

Near the perimeter of the vast area 51
their car came to a stop.
Thinking the fuel had actually run out
stuck on the hard shoulder.
Sitting taking in the shimmering view
as in the sky a dot of light grew!

Becoming aware of this pulsating object
closing in on their position!
No noise could they hear as it got near
rapidly changing shape.
Then it was hovering above their heads
their nerves torn to shreds!

Now a reddish hue and an elongated form
they felt a searing heat.
It moved hovering above a sandy floor
for what seemed hours.
Afraid to move could only watch in awe
chilled to their bony core!

Within a blink it shot straight up and vanished
at incredible velocity!
Their hired cars engine just started once more
in shock got out of there.
Their desire had unexpectedly been fulfilled
but this show had not been billed!

That  day they were not the only witnesses
but no explanation was ever found!

The Foureyed Poet.

A mother sat in front of a computer
her daughters laptop.
Watching that happy teenagers face
and the voice full of hope.
Still unable to accept she was dead
memories filled her head.

Her wonderful child had hung herself
because of bullying at school.
Kept it from her mum she had no idea
what had been going on.
Her daughter had left a diary to explain
expressing the hurt and pain!

She said her boyfriend wanted intimacy
was not ready for this.
Left frustrated and could not understand
later sent him a naked photo.
Not thinking just trying to make atonement
her true feelings she sent.

Over night became the centre of verbal abuse
had her boyfriend caused it?
The photo for everybody to see had gone viral
and life became hell!
Called awful names and in degrading graffiti to
terrible words so untrue.

The end came finding out her best friend as well
had passed on the filth.
Nobody to trust could not tell mum the truth
arriving home so low.
Pressure now too much her life span ceased
from the torment released!

A mother sat compelled to seek out the truth
that drove her daughter to take her own life!

The Foureyed Poet.

On a night shift the underground worker
had to walk the tunnels.
Along the empty track in the pitch black
a torch his only guide.
And a radio to report if anything wrong
cautiously moving along.

It was just before one am he started to walk
down the ramp onto the line.
The only sounds his footsteps on the track
too nervous to look back.
Halfway along his route saw a flickering light
no work was planned that night!

Approaching saw a workman crouching down
busy on some unknown task.
Calling out to enquire what he was doing
the man stood and spoke.
He said hello called in for an urgent repair
made sense why he was there.

An hour later on his return he had gone
radioed to say all was well.
Mentioned the worker he saw in the tunnel
as on reflection thought it odd.
The radio operator told him others had to
as they had walked through!

You had seen the ghost the voice said with glee
possibly was hit by a train!
Some sixty years ago while doing some repairs
this came as a complete surprise.
Never experienced anything like this before
no longer a sceptic that's for sure!

The Foureyed Poet.

Revenge for her parents death the drive
that became her passion.
The story began when she was a child
witnessing their killing!
Every detail taken in by her big eyes
to get the killer the prize.

Seventeen years painfully trickled by her
becoming an assassin.
As the hatred coursed through her veins
revenge drove her on.
Though wanting to seek the love she craved
retribution on her soul engraved!

She had found a man making it complicated
her fine tuning distorted.
This new friend had found her mobile phone
saving her photo image.
Trying to find out about this mystery female
allowing others to find her trail.

Gangs had lost foot soldiers to her expertise
who acted like a shadow.
For the first time had to be far more aware
her parents murderer alerted.
The last pages of her diary soon completed
could this evil be defeated?

Knowing he would catch up with her soon
she prepared to strike first.
Entering his mansion in a covert manner
dispatching silently his crew.
Until he was there without support alone
recognising his arrogant tone.

From a hidden point confronted head on
glaring with a cold stare.
Going to fire the gun held in sweaty hand
diving found a hidden weapon.
A bullet went right through her shoulder
he was quick though much older.

Her shot caught him in a main thigh artery
shattering the femur to.
There before her the man she hated so much
was now at her mercy.
She had prayed for years to see him die
openly then did she cry!

One more deep breath she shot him in the head
cruelly on his face a smile as he lay dead!

Knowing she would be a target vanished from sight
revenge in the end did not feel right!

The Foureyed Poet.