Outback Rogue; A Delightfully Dreary Afternoon.

I was thinking about things whilst working today.

I thought about my stories, how they were progressing, what I wanted to write next. I realised that they are always there to fall back on - on good days, bad days, to help me sleep, to stop tears, all those sorts of things.

I thought about the poems that I've writtern, not so many, but still. Way back in year 12 we had to write some in Lit, and I wrote one that I found the other day. I'd forgotten it, but when I saw it the memories of the poem came rushing back to me. It was a poem for a peaceful dreary day, like today. Inspired by the ballad The Highwayman.

As she walks through haunted hallways,
she ponders of her strife.
The memories are like always,
torn by wrong and right.

He trotted down the bush-track,
his face obscured by tin.
His eyes peered through a flap,
a needled wouldn't slip in.

His men all rode beside him,
smiles on their bearded faces.
She watched them on a curious whim,
these rebels of green races.

When darkness loomed,
he urged his horse onwards to her home.
She welcomed him with one small boon,
her kindness a silent repose.

She watched him go, that benevolent Rogue,
her heart went for the ride.
His rebellious spirit seemed to show,
that he was on their side.

So as she walks through haunted hallways,
she knows her choice was right.
It seems we'll all remember always,
our Outback Robin and his fight. 

It's an old poem, from my writing years ago which I've resisted changing. I thought that belonged on here today, on this delightful, peaceful dreary afternoon.