The Back Lane Murder

Elizabeth Warr was the woman next door,

They called her a witch and a hag,

We lived in a lane that was called ‘Little Payne’

Though what there was lived in her bag,

She carried a hammer, a sharp bladed knife

A corkscrew and two leather twists,

The corkscrew she carried for putting out eyes,

The leather for binding of wrists.

She’d been more than sane up until the back lane

Had revealed that her daughter was courting,

Who’d never told anyone who she had met

Till they found her the following morning,

But she had been ravaged, her body was savaged

Her skirt was pulled over her head,

And blood ran in rivulets down to her ankles

Elizabeth’s daughter was dead.

And that’s when she swore that revenge would be hers

As she haunted the back lanes and alleys,

Carting the murderous tools in her bag

And noting who dillies and dallies,

‘He’ll try it again, and I will be there,’

She announced to her friends and her neighbours,

‘They always return to the scene of the crime

And the place of their murderous labours.’

The months had gone by with barely a sign

He’d ever come back to the midden,

With no-one attacked, he hadn't looked back

So guessing the culprit, forbidden.

But then on a line in the communal yard

A scarf fluttered high on the line,

Elizabeth saw it and reached out and caught it

And muttered, ‘I know that, it’s mine!’

Her daughter had borrowed that scarf for one night

The night that she’d thought to go courting,

And then in the horror, the fear and the fright

The scarf wasn’t there in the morning.

Elizabeth watched who collected the scarf

The mother of Alan John Sidden,

Then carried her bag to the rear of the park

While she waited for dark, to be hidden.

They say there were screams and loud howls in the dark

On that night in the early September,

And smoke in the trees that would waft in the breeze

Along with some foul smelling embers,

When Sidden was found, what was left, on the ground

In the morning, his throat cut, it’s true,

They said that his eyes were a gruesome surprise

They’d been taken by some sort of screw.

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Jane Winters Rogers]

Oh my! How horrifying ! Absolutely gathers ones every emotion watching and walking a path
Onward to certain murder and revenge ....great attention to every detail, tree, and shadow.
The part describing to Mother's scarf was like looking up in the sky through her eyes!! A great
Poem.

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Sounds like one of the true crime stories I've read. Is revenge sweet? Nice story.

[Katherine Solis]

Very beautifully written! I love your careful choice of imagery. Though descriptive, every line feels meaningful and devoid of "fluff." Thanks for the great poem!

[Avinash]

You can nothing but admire such woman in horror. A befitting revenge for a horrible crime.

[Coyote Poetry]

I liked this tale. Had the feel of old places and old hate. I like the set-up of the story leading to very good ending. Thank you David for sharing your entertaining tales.
Coyote

[TheHubbleNation]

Thoroughly enjoyed this piece, a truly terrific tale from beginning to end!

[Philip Muls]

David, you succeeded in sending shivers up my spine with your Edgar Allen Poe-style work. I imagine a dark back lane in London.

Maybe early on, you should not say that the corkscrew she carried for putting out eyes, maybe you can leave that a mystery till the end ?

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

The description oh dear god the description rips through ones soul like a solar flare, fabulous, well done, good read.