The Ghost of Herington Hill

There’s a light in the limbs of the old oak tree,
Where they hung the mutineer Jones.
There’s a light in the limbs where none should be,
And a rattle of unquiet bones.

Bones lie quiet!
Bones lie still!
Bones lie buried in Herington Hill!

The sun burnt red when he went to sea,
An omen as dark as the night.
The sun burnt red and the winds blew free,
As he followed them into the light.

Bones lie quiet!
Bones lie still!
Bones lie buried in Herington Hill!

And when he returned on the wind and the wave,
Alone on the deck of the Spry
And when he returned it was straight to the grave,
In Herington Hill he resides.

Bones lie quiet!
Bones lie still!
Bones lie buried in Herington Hill!

Not a word did he speak, from the ship to the tree,
Those fleeting last moments of life,
Not a word did he speak, nor did offer a plea,
For the care and support of his wife.

Bones lie quiet!
Bones lie still!
Bones lie buried in Herington Hill!

She watched him rise and she watched him fall,
At the hands of family and friends,
She watched him rise and she watched him fall,
And she vowed she would have her revenge.

Bones lie quiet!
Bones lie still!
Bones lie buried in Herington Hill!

They laid him down in a pauper’s grave,
And covered him deep with stones.
They laid him down, but he won’t stay laid,
Because of the widow Jones.

Bones lie quiet!
Bones lie still!
Bones lie buried in Herington Hill!

She called him back from the shadowed lands,
Where the spirits of murderers roam.
She called him back and she took his hand,
And they walked out into the foam.

Bones lie quiet!
Bones lie still!
Bones lie buried in Herington Hill!

And the town that was by the edge of the sea,
Lies empty it’s denizens fled.
And the town that was will nevermore be,
For it harbors the wrath of the dead.

Bones lie quiet!
Bones lie still!
Bones lie buried in Herington Hill!

There’s a light in the limbs of the old oak tree,
Where they hung the mutineer Jones.
There’s a light in the limbs where none should be,
And a rattle of unquiet bones.

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4 responses to “The Ghost of Herington Hill”

    • Hehehe, thanks! ^_^ It’s acutally a song, but I want to try and get a better recording than I can from the default recorder thingy on windows. I have the camcorder, but that means I have to make a music video out of it. 😛

      Yay for piratical poeticals! ^_~

        • Yay for inherent sing-ability! ^_~ *hums song to herself and confuses her coworkers* Nothing like yelling at the dead to stay dead for a rousing chorus! *grin*

          I need to find one of those programs that lets you put in the notes and it plays the song for you. I could have soooo much fun with that! ^_^

          *hefts an nonexistent mug of rum* To Jones! ^_~

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