Pete’s piece triggered by ‘irony/ironic’
Down Carby Wood, in a rickety old shed,
Lived a hermit type tramp, by name of Ned,
“Don’t let your kids, go anywhere near”,
Parents would advise, instilling fear.
Stories tell of horrific events,
Time with the devil, he’d often sent,
Pointed horns, growing from his head,
As night draws in, he meets the dead.
Some say that he, himself had died,
Before eviction from the other side,
Too evil whilst in Heaven, they tell,
That sent him, on his way to Hell.
Things changed, as nature did its worst,
When the dam above, the village burst,
Its school was soon engulfed in mud,
Carried by, the terrible flood.
But then a crying girl was seen,
A little child in early teens,
High upon a telegraph pole,
Terrified, the poor little soul.
Emergency services had arrived on scene,
So deadly quiet, not a cry or scream.
Just the sound of that rushing tide,
Carrying bodies that, had sadly died.
Suddenly a figure, on a door, appeared,
Riding the flood, as onlookers cheered,
A voice cried out, “It’s Hermit Sam,
Oh my God, what’s his plan.”
Leaning left, then leaning right,
Clinging on with all his might,
Like on a surf board on the sea,
Negotiating, every tree.
Passing the girl, he grabbed her arm,
From the people watching, cries of alarm,
But soon those cries, turned into cheers,
As one or two, were shedding tears.
From out of all that terrible woe,
It seems they had, a new hero,
Quite ironic, you might say,
For he was a villain, just yesterday.