Tighty"s game in Walsall with apologies to Edgar Allen Poe"s The Raven
It was past midnight, damp and dreary, Des in bed awake but weary
Trying vainly to establish with sound slumber a rapport,
When he heard a sound so muffled, sounded like cards being shuffled
Coming from the other side of his sturdy travel lodge door.
He tossed and turned and said, “It is the wind and nothing more”.
But the sound it was remaining. With bravado in him draining
He donned his robe and tiptoed to his sturdy bedroom door.
He opened it a crack, peeked out and saw the back
Of a man who was just sitting, playing cards upon the floor.
“It is a nightmare of my mind,” Des said, “Just this and nothing more”.
He had a cloak draped across his back and Hawarthbantam,
Was facing him and pacing in a circle on the floor.
Des's jaw dropped when he heard the soft voice of that poker great,
Saying, “Deal me in this card game for a couple hands or more”.
And the man tossed four chips to him; four blue chips and nothing more.
Then Des must have made a sound, for he slowly turned around
And his face was pale as misty, eerie fog that hugs the shore.
Then he whispered to Des low, “I'm the man called Tightend
Who has come here to play poker as I did in days of yore.
“It is a poker game I'm craving. Only this and nothing more”.
“Won't you sit in for a while?” Tightend asked Des with a smile,
“It will make a better card game than it was an hour before”.
And, not wanting to incite him, Des slowly walked beside him
Meekly asking what the stakes were as he sat down on the floor.
“£1 and £2 ante,” said Tightend. Quoth Hawartbantam, “Nothing more.”
From the start Des had a streak of luck that reached its peak
By him winning all the money that the two had owned before.
Then Tightend said, oh so slyly, (as that Ian one grinned so wryly),
“This low stake game we're playing I'm beginning to abhor”.
“Then by all means”, said the round one, 'we should surely play for more”.
Then Tightend, with gesture bold, from his pocket withdrew some gold
In a bag that was so heavy that to move it was a chore.
His sly look Des failed to heed for his soul was filled with greed
As he saw the gold coins from the sack begin to pour.
“Yes,” Des whispered weakly, “We should surely play for more”.
Then Tightend said in voice so solemn as he stacked gold in a column,
“The hour grows late; I'm weary, so we'll play but one hand more.
If you win, my gold you'll own. If I win then it's your home
That will be mine to have and keepto keep forevermore”.
Quoth the round one: “Evermore”.
Des said, “That's fair, I feel.” Then Tightend began to deal
And the cards Des had were aces and the aces numbered four.
Des said, “My hand is pat and I'm only sorry that
The pot has been established and that we can bet no more.”
Quoth the round one: “Bet some more!”
“He speaks true, ”Des then was told, and Tightend pulled out more gold
And tossed it with the other coins that were strewn across the floor.
“But I cannot match your bet,” Des sadly said, “but, yet,
I must have something left; something you two would adore”.
Said the round one, “You in bondage. Only this and nothing more”.
“He speaks wisely”, said Tightend. “If you want to bet, you can.
But lose and you're our slave and servant now and evermore”.
Des stared at his four aces, smiled and looked at his guest's faces,
Sealed the bet and spread his aces down and out across the floor.
Said the round one in a whisper, “I see aces numbering four!”
The face of Des just glowered as Tightend's poker hand he lowered
Until it covered his four aces that were resting on the floor.
Then amid a quiet hush, Des saw his small straight flush
And knew that he was beaten and was doomed forevermore.
Said the round one, “You in bondage here and now and evermore”.
Now on dark nights, cold and dreary, Des's sore body grows so weary
As he dusts and washes and cleans and sweeps the mess that's on the floor.
While Tightend and the round one live in comfort in their haven
With their slave who's held in bondage, held in bondage
Evermore.
Moral is don't play a Tighty game in Walsall LOL
