lady bushranger
Posted: Fri Sep 25, 2009 1:34 pm
To what great purpose
Two body’s dead as straw.
Blood mote in abundance
among the gore, and the
people standing tear less.
She was a lady bush ranger
tip-toe thief, in a lonely land
hollowed out by wind and sand,
where vanity is uncommon,
and a woman on a horse is
always in danger.
no adherents to water
and boasting with a grinning
laugh toasting your gains
will get you killed,
for out here you don’t loiter alone.
For it is still the flint age.
The shadows lands,
in this quite earth unveiled,
out here life still remain very one-sided,
where the drought can rage for years.
Legend has it she would sit high
waiting for strangers to pass by,
she would lay in wait to tame them
then using as bait, her wild hair
eautiful looks radiant. She would
eclipse their judgment in feline webbing,
before their folly was exposed,
they fall wondering silent.
then rob them of everything.
Then up into the crags’ annoyed by winds,
where the land unused,
of raw winds that drags the plains dust
o color the crags’ with rust.
There she would sit and wait.
And slowly bring men to their fate.
Nobody knows
what’s in heart or soul that takes
its toll on unsuspecting men of the plains.
But she is out there,
some say she’s half aboriginal
and driven from her lands,
her wisdom is confined to herself
tool
Two body’s dead as straw.
Blood mote in abundance
among the gore, and the
people standing tear less.
She was a lady bush ranger
tip-toe thief, in a lonely land
hollowed out by wind and sand,
where vanity is uncommon,
and a woman on a horse is
always in danger.
no adherents to water
and boasting with a grinning
laugh toasting your gains
will get you killed,
for out here you don’t loiter alone.
For it is still the flint age.
The shadows lands,
in this quite earth unveiled,
out here life still remain very one-sided,
where the drought can rage for years.
Legend has it she would sit high
waiting for strangers to pass by,
she would lay in wait to tame them
then using as bait, her wild hair
eautiful looks radiant. She would
eclipse their judgment in feline webbing,
before their folly was exposed,
they fall wondering silent.
then rob them of everything.
Then up into the crags’ annoyed by winds,
where the land unused,
of raw winds that drags the plains dust
o color the crags’ with rust.
There she would sit and wait.
And slowly bring men to their fate.
Nobody knows
what’s in heart or soul that takes
its toll on unsuspecting men of the plains.
But she is out there,
some say she’s half aboriginal
and driven from her lands,
her wisdom is confined to herself
tool