Random Scribbles · writing

Hangin’ With Ichabod


Not far from Tarry Town it was All Hallows’ Eve
The night we dress up and play make believe
A Hessian Soldier was what I would be
My outfit complete with a fiery-eyed steed.

I mounted my mount and set off through the wood
To the Van Tassel estate, where the candies were good
Perhaps, I was moving a tad too quickly
Fair Katrina Van Tassel, I was aching to see.

From the trees stepped a man with his sleeves cut too short
I knew we’d collide if I didn’t abort
I turned in ‘mongst the boughs, a dangerous tack
But once so committed there was no turning back.

The trees and their limbs were pummeling me
My steed was in panic and I couldn’t see
And then without warning a large branch took my head
The lanky, loose jointed man thought I was dead.

He screamed like a schoolgirl and ran off to the east
I searched for my head and I called for my beast
The stallion returned in an hour or so, but
My head remained missing and I had to go.

I rode deep in the forest and felt for the space
Where had once been my nose, where had once been my face
Each night now I mount up to search for my head
I’m beginning to think I might really be dead.

Well that was different and a lot of fun.

2 thoughts on “Hangin’ With Ichabod

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