PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Sometime past the edge of night,

before the streak of morning light,

a madness crept ‘mid sleep’s respite,

and terrorized a city.



Guised by shadow’s murky shade,

obsessed with Satan’s well honed blade,

he ‘waits the brash flirtatious maid,

the unsuspecting chippy.



Strolling Bucks Row’s cobbled lane,

proved “Polly” Nichols’ hapless bane,

slashed ear to ear, she’ll ne’er again,

be labeled fair, nor pretty.



Slain on London’s eastern side,

the trollop Annie Chapman died,

‘twas one more baff’ling homicide,

bewildering the bobby.



Lizzie Stride, let down her guard,

and walked with total disregard,

dismembered quick in Dutfield’s yard,

the ‘nebriated floozy.



Carved to bits in Mitre Square,

poor tippler Kate, was worse for wear,

the ripper caught her unaware,

his prey an easy quarry.



Finally, slain in Millers Court

a naughty lass, of lewd purport

oft’ known to drink, entice, consort,

‘twas drunken Mary Kelly.



Plying trade on London streets,

unsavory, bawdy, indiscreet,

late nights they’ll ne’er again repeat,

the butcher showed no pity.



Strumpet, harlot, courtesan,

just prey, to Jack’s proficient hand,

why Scotland Yard could ne’er remand

the ripper, ‘tis a mystery.



Killing past the edge of night,

but long before the morning light,

the ripper slashed ‘mid sleeps respite,

in fearful London city.