Alan A Dale

By Alwyn

There was a man, who put his words in song,
He had a way with words, both short and long.


He lived in olden tymes of past long gone.
He played a gut string loot, which he'd often strum.


He came from the medieval village of Wickham Wood,
He was friendly with a famous name; a man called Robyn Hood.

He sang his songs and told his merry tales,
As Robyn and his merry men drank their strong brewed ales.


You could often hear him play his tunes by the campfire light,

He would entertain the forest men well into the night.


Bawdy songs, casks of ale there was many a tale,
The tunes rang out amongst the trees from the man called Alan A Dale.