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The Gaffer's Last Ale
The ancient gaffer would recount the tale
To the people gathered in tavern hall
Of the night the last of the witches fell;
This night they fear the cloak of darkness fall
The town’s people will seek shelter knowing
Each year on this date her promise remade,
“You will reap seeds of wrath you are sowing;
Killing fog from the mountain will cascade”
Tonight they listen in dark, somber fear
And remember all who now have perished
The gaffer is eldest; his time draws near
Ev'ry breath that he breathes should be cherished
The senior man raises high his last flask
Giving a whispered toast to his death mask
Editor's Note: This is my first Shakespearean Sonnet and was written for  | ID: 1228519
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