Robin Hood

A Poem

There is a silence in the deep,
The sound of drums in the howling breeze;
The cold dead earth under his feet,
And fears cold enough for his heart to freeze.

The days are bleak and harsh,
Desert-like in absolute nature.
Country-stability is that of a marsh,
When its own kings raid and plunder.

Cries fill the dreary night air,
As children run free and wild.
They collect supplies to bring to their lair,
Doing what they can to survive.

He draws a bronze bow,
His arrows fly straight and true.
He earns title from the sweat of his brow,
And not from possessions of golden hue.

He has come,
Standing proud and tall.
He carries a horn,
And blows his rallying call.

He robs the rich,
And gives to the poor.
He aids the needy,
And saves the unsecured.

Reviews

[Libby McKeown]

This is an awesome way to retell a legend. The imagery is solid, and the work flows well and is overall well-written. It's got a nice rhtythm too! Thanks for this incredible piece!

[Tate Morgan]

Hi Rain so long since I have heard from you What drove you to write on Robyn hood?
An odd topic for a young girl in he twenty first century .However forever a historical buff I am always intrigued by the past.And as you know I love rhythm and rhyme