SIR HUMPHREY KYNESTON
Sir Humphrey Kyneston, a man with a famous name,
His choice of occupation was what brot him his fame,
He was bred to inherit a Lordship, one of the upper class,
As a young man, favored a lifestyle both wild and rash,
Free and loose with coin, soon his debts did double and grow,
' Till the Sheriff siezed all and he was left with nothing to show.
So having lost family Castle Myddle, livestock and all the land,
Easy living desires drove him to steal, living hand to hand,
He robbed travelling merchants of both silver and gold
And shared with the local peasantry, so we are told.
In turn they brot him warnings and kept his larder full to the brim,
And brot fodder for his horse, ' twas a mutual win.
His local hangout was the noteable Wolf's Head Inn,
A disreputable place for criminals, corruption and sin.
' Twas here Sir Humphrey claimed a place and a certain chair,
For anyone to sit there-in was a dire and dangerous dare.
One foolish man did scoff the dare, didn't believe what was said.
Sir Humphrey accosted that foolish man and simply shot him dead.
He was now a famous outlaw and on his head was a price,
Wanted by the King's Men for robbin' an killin'; a hangable vice,
But warned by the peasants he'd escape on his horse, a hearty steed.
For his adventures in crime, needed a reliable partner indeed.
There's legend told of this horse, bold deeds and fabulous things;
Crossed mountains and rivers unseen, 'twas said he surely had wings.
The Kings Men set a trap on the bridge, opened a gap, impossibly wide,
But this marverlous, athletic horse, simply jumped across to the other side.
This elusive pair were never caught and they carrried on for many a year,
Sir Humphrey was truly a terror and his name still to some brings fear.
Humphrey and horse lived in a cave and were comfortable, a matter of course.
This cave had two rooms. One for Sir Humphrey and one for his horse.
Now the legend goes on, tales still whispered and told in the night,
Of hoof beats crossing the bridge, silent shadows in the moonlight.
And when times are tough, the peasant poor still find needs left at their door.
They know ' tis a gift from the Highway Man who rides once more.
copyright 2006 F.Facer
