Patience Payne

A bewitched baby affects an entire Puritan town

 

Patience Payne

 

Puritan fears,

of Patience's tears,

they say they sealed her fate,

 

Of all that fell,

I will now tell,

her story now relate,

 

Her Dame, they cried,

abruptly died,

giving Patience life,

 

And Goodman Payne,

went quite insane,

on losing his dear wife,

 

Payne felt no joy,

'You're not a boy',

he answered Patience's cries,

 

Another kid,

unfit to live,

She'd caused her Dame's demise,

 

Ivory fair,

with copper hair,

bewitched she was, he said,

 

Her pointed ears,

just fuelled his fears,

and filled his heart with dread,

 

Her eyes were green,

an emerald sheen,

that seemed to see thru all,

 

So in his strife,

he took a knife,

to answer heaven's call,

 

He'd slit her vein,

to end his pain,

In the woods so deep,

 

He'd hide her there,

no one aware,

and then back home he'd creep,

 

A sacrifice

would suffice,

dispelling luck gone bad,

That winter day,

the legends say,

Goodman Payne went mad,

 

The men from town,

they tracked them down,

and found them far below,

 

Payne was dead,

he'd cracked his head,

and caused his blood to flow,

 

A steep ravine,

had gone unseen,

they'd tumbled fifty feet,

 

And Goodman Payne,

had crushed his brain,

his doom was now complete,

 

Yet Patience Payne,

lay wholly plain,

crying in the cold,

 

fit and hale,

though cold and pale,

still clutched in father's hold,

So Patience screamed,

as Puritans schemed,

to conceal what they just found,

 

Down in that ditch,

a baby witch,

they did not want around,

 

'Just have no fear,

we'll leave her here,

the chill her life will take',

 

'No-one will know,

now come, let's go,

Leave her, for heaven's sake',

 

All thru the night,

'til morning light,

they heard the baby's wail,

 

Her cries so deep,

preventing sleep,

sounding scared and frail,

 

At dawn's first ray,

the following day,

Patience's crying ceased,

They heard no more,

chose to ignore,

thoughts of a hungry beast,

 

the valley floor,

they saw no more,

avoided day and night,

 

their corpses bare,

they left down there,

due to the town's great fright

 

Guilty souls,

so full of holes,

who let the baby die,

 

Hidden shame,

and passing blame,

A mitigating lie,

 

Guilty hearts,

for shameful parts,

the roles they knew so well,

 

Accusing sin,

a deadening din,

that dragged their souls to hell,

In darkest night,

devoid of light,

they'd hear a distant cry,

 

They'd quake and sweat,

full of regret,

for letting Patience die,

 

Baby screams,

within their dreams,

the sound drove some insane,

 

Some paid their guilt,

their blood they spilt,

no longer bearing pain,

 

Time passed by,

the years would fly,

and soon they all forgot,

 

Patience Payne,

they would proclaim,

was just a myth they taught,

 

But elders knew,

when cold winds blew,

a baby's cry you'd hear,

they would hide,

not go outside,

or to the woods go near,

                                                          

Years went past,

very fast,

'twas half a score plus four,

 

An autumn day,

cool and grey,

that chilled you to the core,

 

Into the town,

there came around,

A stranger never seen,

 

skin milky fair,

and flaming hair,

and eyes an emerald green

 

A buxom lass,

an hourglass,

a shapely brilliant rose

 

The men she'd meet,

their hearts t'would beat,

those handsome Romeos,

Few words she spoke,

to all the folk,

who watched her in the lane,

 

But elders wise,

soon did surmise,

The lass was Patience Payne

 

Unfit to task,

none dared ask,

of her identity,

 

her pointed ears,

fulfilled their fears,

of her destiny

 

With fearful glance,

her circumstance,

debated all the day,

 

By waning sun,

her shopping done,

the girl just went away,

 

Would you believe,

None saw her leave,

they feared she was a ghost,

She - soon they learned,

always returned,

twice monthly at the most,

 

In mercantile,

she'd shop a while,

and quickly slip away,

 

The men would spy,

watch her pass by,

yet long she'd never stay,

 

Where she'd go,

no-one would know,

most thought the woods so thick,

 

a rustic shack,

off beaten track,

for home this 'ghost' would pick,

 

she caught the eye,

of every guy,

on every shopping day,

 

Her humble smile,

her graceful style,

told more than words could say,

She lived apart,

the fiery tart,

gave goodwives fuel to hate,

 

They'd like to switch,

the redhead witch,

her charms they would berate,

 

Though just a teen,

they were quite keen,

to burn her at the stake,

 

Their tongues attacked,

'a devil's pact,

to live, she had to make',

 

'None could survive,

and even thrive,

alone a helpless tot',

 

'The devil's aid,

Her need conveyed,

witchcraft was now her lot',

 

Her soul was lost,

at such great cost,

she walked so tall and fair,

Revenge no doubt,

She'd soon dish out,

release her own nightmare,

 

Upon the town,

the blood guilt found,

on those who let her freeze,

 

She'd hex and kill,

through black spell skill,

All that she would please,

 

A plot was laid,

though now delayed,

to poison Patience's food,

 

They'd taint her meat,

And when she'd eat,

her life would then conclude,

 

There plans were made,

but then were stayed,

when winter storms arrived,

 

Sickness spread,

Along with dread,

disease quickly thrived,

corpses mounting,

death toil counting,

no hope was to be found,

 

Suddenly appeared,

her timing weird,

Patience came around,

 

Went to the head,

of those in bed,

with medicine she'd made,

 

She did not flee,

but stayed to see,

their sickness slowly fade,

 

She nursed them back,

with liquid black,

until the sickness passed,

 

Then away she slipped,

 leaving them pipped,

she'd vanished so darn fast

 

From then they'd see,

her sporadically,

Just when they'd never know,

 

The centuries pass,

like ethereal gas,

all change Patience forego,

 

She stays unaged,

by time unfazed,

young eternally,

 

A ghost not quite,

A witch despite,

no evil internally,

 

And to this day,

when skies are grey,

and threatening snow or rain,

 

Sometime nearby,

You just might spy,

The lovely Patience Payne.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Josh Dollar]

The rhymes are really good. After five or so lines, I was engaged with the story. Poetry with a narrative like this can be a bit boring for me a lot of times, but this one manages to be delightful and never a bore.