My Beloved Bess 2019 Part Two Poem by Kay Moore

where upon arrival there, a young maid stood weeping, weeping weeping,
With a red love knot, knotted, in her long black hair.
The farmer's wife, love of his life, was busy baking in her kitchen,
Then at first, there was a burst, of clamour in the yard.
The dogs were howling, warning, that broke the silence of the morning,
Barking, barking barking.
The wagon rolled to a silent stop, it's fragile cargo pending,
The patients injuries requiring care, to halt his life from ending.
So farm chores, ceased to happen, till the patient was inside,
First, to still the blood, that was seeping from his eyes,
Water to be boiled, bandages to be collected,
Murky blood and blades to be selected,
Covered in mud and battered, was the sad sight of the man.
His need of clothing to be removed, was the general plan.
Four hands of gentle nature, immediately set about, to remove the tainted clothing, and sort the problems out.
In fear of further damage, of the wounds already there, Tess and the farmers wife led them in with care.
Gently cleaning his body, from tip of head to toe,
Praying to the Lord above, l as their ministrations were slow.
To guide them as they toiled, their patients life suspended, l
The life that he had known, may certainly soon be ended.
The farmer called upon the shepherd, to help him find some wood,
To make a splint for the wounded leg, so recovery would be good.
So when the men had finished their task, they returned to the market, rather fast,
Food to be sold, food to be bought, as a farmer's survival, is no rort.
Regard of the seasons in their stride, a farmers' rewards, are his pride
Bess was overcome with joy, now rejoicing, thanks to the boy.
Her love still strong, for the man, to ensure his healing, was her plan.
And slowly, slowly as time passed by, sparkles grew in her patients eye
Gradually as the wounds were healed, the highway man decided, no more to steal.
A future was offered to work and stay, a safer life could be the way.
Deciding then to settle down, the farm became their permanent home.
Day by day, week by week, life on the farm, grew to be sweet.
Fresh air and weather, crowned by the sun, his change of personality had begun.
Food on the table, life now grand, no longer a criminal, dealing in contraband.
The weather still fine, the weeks trading brisk, the days trading over,
so he wouldn't be missed.
The inn-keeper slipper away in a shadow, unseen, to quaff an ale or two, alone, was his dream,
Yet whilst, all alone, surrounded by the cellars dark walls,
He chose to imbibe in one of his stalls,
When all of a sudden, struck a pain in his heart, the severity of which, gave him a start.
The noise from above, muffled his calls, some rowdy customers were having a brawl.
And so was ignored, alone with his pain, he worried he wouldn't see daylight again.
His life flashed by as he lay on the floor, now sobbing quietly, crawling to the door.
He attempted to climb to the top of the stairs, as the pain he was suffering. was his worst in years.
Alas, at the wake of the inn-keepers death, Bess attnded with no regrets,
Now she was married, and soon to be a mother in waiting, fill with glee,
Her father had forgiven her in his will,
She now owned the inn, and the illegal still.