Feeling a little more strong with his clothes all back on,
Harry felt a bit more enthused.
He didn’t open his mouth to ask what it’s about,
But his mind was no less confused.
Then they tied his arms with a vine much stronger than the twine
That he used when back there in the factory,
He sometimes tried to work loose, but always to no use,
His efforts were totally unsatisfactory.
He knew he had nothing to gain except for more pain,
So he surrendered himself to just going along.
They attached a short tether about as long as a metre,
Just to make sure he didn’t go wrong.
Nobody bothered to talk, just continued to walk
Until they came to a slow bend in the highway;
While they went with a swagger, Harry could only just stagger,
Then they turned to the right up a bank to a byway.
They didn’t stop when they got to the top,
Just kept following a neat narrow trail
That led through the bushes and then through bulrushes;
Then Jimmy said, “Speed up man, we have to get you to jail.”
Harry thought, that’s a bitter tonic, how damn ironic,
From the frying pan into the fire.
I just ran away from a prison today,
Can my misfortune grow any higher?
It was now almost dark and still no sign or mark
To indicate how long more they would sally.
Then they topped a small rise and to Harry’s surprise,
He was looking down on a deep shadowed valley.
As they made their way down, it looked like a small town
Of old crumbling buildings and some lookout spires,
Then further below, Harry caught the glow
Of dim light of small smoldering wood fires.
As they went through an old rusty metal gate, someone said, “You’re late.”
Their seemingly leader shouted, “We’re alright.”
Harry felt a little elation for reaching their destination,
But in his situation he felt mighty uptight.
He knew he wasn’t fine, all bound up with vine
In an extremely weakened condition.
But what made matters worse wasn’t his obvious curse;
The place effused hostility and suspicion.
This excerpt is part of the Poetry Book Harry the mole