Quite Contrary

A silly poem with a crazy ending.

Sittin' at the dairy,
when this lady quite contrary,
Came a-walkin' through my back yard;


Never turned away,
such a face she displayed,
Not a look to which one could quite describe;
Past the apple trees,
no she never looked at me,
And compelled I was to follow where she roamed.


Through the fields of green,
where the air was citrus-sweet,
She began to slow her pace to but a jog.


O'er the bridge of wood,
I'd not understood ,
why she stopped so suddenly by the moor.
Slowly she turned to me,
her eyes shined with glee,
as her hand disappeared inside her coat.


Confused I became, as an object was displayed,
and the fear began to well inside of me.
I said, "excuse me miss, is there anything amiss?"
And she laughed as she put a dagger in my side.