The Rime of the Amazon Wagoneer by Chris Lloyd

‘Tis a lonely Amazon Wagoneer

Who stoppeth for the first tyme

And he thinks unto hisself

“the first of four score and nine”

Sun was warm and day was clear,

Leather and brass were shone.

Waggoneer took a last look round,

Took his seat, egg’d his shire on.

With map read and route set,

And shire leading up front,

The first stop, up a long steep hill,

Made the animal snort and grunt.

On they went thru town and village,

Each parcel safely delivered

Into hands or to a safe place;

There was even one for a wizard.

Ev’ry road Wagoneer travelled

‘Til he was smote with sleep

So he sat him down upon a stone

And Eftsoones made not a peep.

So Wagoneer’s shire stood guard

In case varmints got too near

To all the booty in his wagon,

‘Til he woke for a cup of beer.

With beer drunk and cheese ate,

Feeling rested and ready to go,

The Amazon Wagoneer

Checked the remaining cargo.

Off they set, Amazoneer and shire

With the last one score and three,

When round a bend a highway man

Shouted, “I be going to rob thee.”

He was not afear’d of such speech

For he’d heard it many times,

So answered as he had before,

By shouting back in rimes.

“Thou should think hard merry friend,

Afore thou work your plan

For I am an Amazon waggoneer

And I fear no other man.

Why just last week at this very spot

I despatched one such as you;

Despite his fancy silver pistol

Though it looked good, to give it due.

So, I give thou fair warning varmint!

Do not try any tricks,

Or thou shalt be dealt with swiftly

And shall die among sticks.”

“Fie, Amazon man do you dare scold me?

Get thee down fight for your skin

But do not make me wait I say

All this talk wears my patience thin.”

The coarse voice of the scoundrel,

To our hero, mattered not a jot

He simply reached behind his seat and

With his crossbow the robber was shot.

With that tawdry episode put right,

The heroes of the day

Did deliver the final parcels

In their own inimitable way.

Small and large heavy and light,

Never a parcel left behind,

The Amazon Waggoneer

Delivered what was assigned.

At the hour of eight that evening

When the last parcel had gone,

The Amazon waggoneer

Stabled his Shire and said “well done.”

His recall was not of the rogue he shot

But the deepest look of joy

As he handed a large package

To a tousled haired little boy.

No more rogues encountered,

No more robbers shot.

The Amazon Waggoneer was tired

And looking forward to a tot.

©Christopher Lloyd