The Death Of Molly

She lies under small mound
of earth

Molly Miller be her name
the constabulary thought
they had the butcher
but they could’ne make the claim

aye she had been murdered
cut down and in her prime
her killer thought a lad up north
but not indicted for the crime

he was a strange one aye they say
looked upon her too agreeably
not gentleman like or to admire
but steely and unpleasantly

no family she has to visit her
she be laid there all alone
under dirt with worms in her insides
aye dirt and granite stone

her throat was sliced they say

so Molly she be resting,
no cross to bear her name
no flowers will have a chance
to wilt upon her shallow grave

the miller lad is now long gone
her life we could ‘ne save




























ramblingsfromamum 3.1.2013

No Hero

Pitch black night
except one shaft 
that hit the stones
that I tread upon
from the otherwise
moonless and starless sky
 a window above
shadowy figures behind curtains
back and forth
and a curdling scream 
like milk gone sour
nightmares are made 
heinous crime in silence black
no one stirs
gets involved
certainly not I
I stand and watch and wait
what iniquitous deed took place
what tragedy
for screams to echo
what unlawful felony
scream in the dead of this night
to not awaken the hero in me
silence falls the curtains
the figure now alien from
the prey
no hero am I
walk silently by


ramblingsfromamum 28.12.2012