Although those days have long gone by
We still remember Gwyn and her sisters…
Their bright red silk dancing gowns
And their sleek black colt forty-fives?
Now in those days of long ago,
Lived a family that was dirt poor
In Will County in a wooded glade
In the hills of Ap-pa-la-chi-a…
No sons had they just six sweet girls
And Pearls were they each and every one
Gwyn was the brightest gem of them all
And she sang like a nightingale …
It all happened back in twenty-one
The bankers wanted to take their home
The girls walked into the director’s office
With Gwyn a looking quite forlorn.
“You took our parents for a ride,” she sighed
“You’re no more than a common crook …
Your interest rates compounded until of course,
They couldn’t get off your tether hook.”
“You’ve cheated half the town this way…
Leaving widows and children high and dry
We of the family have hereby decided …
It’s now high time you begin to cry!”
So the girls began a month-long run
Bank robbing with their black guns
The feds tried to round them in
But they got no leads from anyone.
The girls disappeared from the countryside…
The people in Will county were richer and wise.
The bankers had to compromise
All thanks to Gwyn and the girls.
Now no one knew where the girls had gone.
No one saw them after that month-long run.
Some say they went into the hills.
Some say they sailed over the seas.
I’ll tell you something if you want to know
I was a walking in gay Paree back in thirty-three
I saw sweet Gwyn a dancing in the Moulin Rouge
And asked her if she’d marry me.
We’ve been together for fifty years
We’ve had a lot of laughs and some tears
My sweet little pearl from the wooded glade
In the hills of Ap-pa-la-chi-a.
© G.s.k. ‘14
Originally published May 5, 2014