The Girl
She blew into town with the wind at her back
her hair tossed with a curl.
She took up residence in a falling-down shack
and adopted a nice little girl.
She raised her and taught her all that she knew
her voice was lilting and soft.
She raised three more with her eyes so blue
and they all slept up in the loft.
She was a stubborn girl, headstrong and brave
all her four daughters of kind
She one day discovered an abandoned cave
but the village was all of one mind
She was accused of crimes she didn't commit
and tried of being a witch.
She was hanged in October, the candles were lit
and she was in quite a stitch.
She watched all day as the village prepared
and was she white as a sheet.
She dressed her self up, as bold as she dared
her dress folded and neat.
She vowed to go the way she came
the wind was to her back
She knew things in the village would stay the same
her nerves it didn't wrack.
She stood proud and tall on the stand
and then, when came the dawn
She opened her eyes and looked over the land
and then on that day she was gone.