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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365664" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Barton Leas</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">You can't see the tiny village <br>In the bush, called Barton Leas<br>For it's hidden in a hollow, <br>Down a track and through the trees, <br>And you'd pass it on the highway<br>Never knowing where to stop, <br>If it wasn't for a broken sign<br>That indicates a shop.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There are just two dozen houses<br>By the shop, a little pub, <br>And an oval with no grass on<br>All burnt up, just like the scrub, <br>While the buildings look forsaken<br>Peeling paint in every street, <br>And the roofs are made of iron<br>Fending off the scorching heat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You would think the place deserted<br>If you ventured there by day, <br>For the streets are always empty<br>Like the folk have gone away, <br>But that's only in the summer<br>When the sun is at its height, <br>If you want to see some movement<br>Then, you have to go at night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For it's then that all the neighbors<br>Gather, drinking at the pub, <br>Or go out to tend their gardens<br>Though their gardens are burnt up, <br>For it hasn't rained in Barton Leas<br>For years that I can see<br>When a passing shower startled them, <br>The first since fifty-three.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The people seemed so friendly<br>When John Inkerman turned up, <br>He was just a passing drifter<br>Quite a jolly, friendly chap, <br>And the locals thought he'd fit right in<br>And rented him a place, <br>They would pay him for odd jobs, <br>Invite him round for tea and cake.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There had never been an argument<br>Before in Barton Leas, <br>For the folk were all good neighbors<br>Helped each other, tried to please, <br>But when Inkerman had called and<br>Whispered things to Molly Brown, <br>The atmosphere began to change, <br>He'd said, they 'put her down.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then little Amy Pearson<br>Began to fret and cry, <br>When Inkerman had called on her, <br>The neighbors asked her why? <br>He'd told her that her husband Jeff<br>Was sweet on Ellen Tredd, <br>He'd seen the couple necking<br>In the trees behind the shed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then Mrs. Bartlett snubbed a friend<br>She'd had for twenty years, <br>While Mr. Bartlett smashed a glass<br>And went for old Carstairs, <br>While Peggy Neap had wandered out<br>To tend her veggie patch, <br>To find that it was all dug up<br>Her vegetables trashed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then Gordon almost hit a tree<br>When heading out to town, <br>His truck had veered off the track, <br>The tyres all let down, <br>It seemed that almost everything<br>That could was going wrong<br>In Barton Leas, since Inkerman, <br>The drifter came along.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One night they held a meeting<br>In the little village hall, <br>The place was packed that night<br>With all the neighbors, wall to wall, <br>But later, when John Inkerman<br>Had tried to join the crowd, <br>He found the doors and windows there<br>Had been both locked and barred.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The meeting went 'til midnight<br>Then the neighbors wandered home, <br>While Inkerman had stopped a few, <br>Asked what was going down; <br>'Don't let that worry you, my lad, '<br>Said Benjamin Tresize, <br>'You'll find out soon enough! We'd like<br>To keep it a surprise.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One night as Inkerman had slept<br>Beneath a haloed moon, <br>Dark figures stirred around his house<br>Moved quietly through the gloom, <br>From every house in Barton Leas<br>They issued in the mist, <br>On every face a coloured mask, <br>A blade in every fist.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The screams were truly terrible<br>That night in Barton Leas, <br>As in they filed and, one by one<br>Ignored the drifter's pleas, <br>And every blade was bloodstained<br>When they filed on out the door, <br>That not one would be guilty; <br>As good neighbors, they would share.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The villagers of Barton Leas<br>Are friendly, never dull, <br>Their pub has gained an ornament<br>That looks quite like a skull, <br>And Peggy Neap grows veggies<br>That when cooked, just fall apart, <br>So succulent, they're fertilized<br>By a drifter's heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">15 March 2009</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+Lewis+Paget">David Lewis Paget</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365664" data-title="Barton Leas de David Lewis Paget" data-description="You can't see the tiny village 
In the bush, called Barton Leas
For it's hidden in a hollow, 
Down a track and through the trees, 
And you'd pass it on the highway
Never knowing where to stop, 
If it wasn't for a broken sign
That indicates a shop...."></div>
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