Six Mile Inn

By: Benjamin Schaffer
In the obsidian Twilight, near a humble abode
The harvest moon shone in brilliant orange light
In shadowy midnight, a weary traveler rode
Seeking a place to rest for the night

Six miles, thought he, to town on this road

Ne’er such a great trek could I endure
But alas, did he see a humble abode
And did so loudly rap on its door
The door nearly broke as it was pushed ajar
–Oh were it not for the weakness of men!–
A fair maiden spoke “Sir, you’ve traveled Far!
Come rest your head now at the Six Mile Inn!”
Blushing went he into the old in
She said “You are braver than brave Lysander
Drink this tea, you’ll be stronger than the men
Who never drank the tea of Oleander!”
He said ” this tea I shan’t take
For sleep is a harsh commander
With tea I shall stay awake
Especially this tea called Oleander!”
 “But oh you’ll sleep, how you’ll will sleep sir
Please on this subject don’t pander”
She said as the glass she began to stir
And pressed to his lips the tea of Oleander
Bound by her spell and her thighs and her hips
–Oh were it not for the lust of young men–
He drank from the glass pressed up to his lips
And they drank to the health of the Six Mile Inn
He wished to know the lass’s name
So for his slumber thanks he could wish her
“I am not friend, I am foe, a lass of ill fame
My name, sir, is Lavinia Fisher!”