Tuesday, January 8, 2019

THE BALLAD OF WILD BEV




I stopped for a drink at th’ hotel on the lake
Without an idea what strange course that would take.
A beer and cigar before somebody asked
Of a girl who had led “an interesting past.”

The old man who asked was an old man in need
Who weighed my reply with a great deal of heed.
“Oh,” he sighed deeply, “but that woman could Rev
My life is indifferent without my Wild Bev.”

A silence descended as sharp as a knife
The whole bar stood still – there was no sign of life.
A sudden crescendo as every man cheer'd
Reflected the view that Wild Bev was revered.

A thousand voices at once b’gan to boast
Of rumours and stories they all loved the most.
Recollections were true and nothing said fake
This was Wild Bev, and to them she was great.

Amidst all the shoutings a voice rang out clear
The men they stood silent and looked to the rear.
The voice said, “Wild Bev, she was better than most,
Join me, my friends, as I call for a toast!”

“A toast! A toast!” The men shouted loud
One hundred men strong if it was a crowd.
“Wild Bev is not here but we shout her name strong
Our memories of her we shall treasure for long.”

Until late in the night I told them my side
And in their reply there was nothing to hide.
A shame that someone whom a party could host
Should spend her days now alongside the coast.

The road, now, is lonely alongside th’ hotel,
“Here were adventures,” men their children will tell.
“No more is Wild Bev singing into the night
And when not in song – boy, could she fight!”

Here ends the ballad of a girl named Wild Bev
Open the whisky and the party would Rev.
Nowadays with pride patrons still laud her name
“Wild Bev,” they cheer loud. “Now there was a dame!”


                                                  Mark van Vuuren (c)2019