Metre Monday – “The Thief”

7 Aug

The music rings out loud and sweet,

As bawdy bodies slouch on benches,

The sign invites the men to eat

And gawp at all the tavern wenches.


The air is thick with song and smoke

The soldiers laugh and quaff their wine,

I hide my sword behind my cloak

And cautiously I sip at mine.


I spy my prey across the bar

And watch her polishing a glass,

Knowing with dread as black as tar

That violence will soon come to pass.


The soldiers bellow out the chorus,

I slip my blade from out its sheath.

Then all at once there stands before us

The bartender become a Thief.


She catapults with deadly grace

And nocks her bow of elm and yew,

Looses an arrow at my face

Which I stand up to slice in two.


I leave my gold upon the table,

And vanish out the oaken door.

The Thief was strong and quick and able

But thanks to me, she is no more.


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