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The walls of the prison reached up to the sky,
The sentries looked down from their posts.
The moon disappeared as dark clouds floated by
Like large and preponderous ghosts.
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The watch on his wrist seemed unbearably loud,
And he blanched at the deafening noise,
But he strode to the wall with a purpose unbowed,
As he quickly recovered his poise.
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He knew that he’d only get one single chance,
There wouldn’t be time for a second.
He grasped the rough coils and adjusted his stance,
As his moment of destiny beckoned.
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Up, up flew the rope like a flickering snake,
Up, up through the chill autumn night.
The whole enterprise in that throw was at stake,
And he prayed it would turn out all right.
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But his aim, like his heart was unerring and true,
And success the reward for his hope.
Though he waited in doubt for a second or two,
Till he felt a sharp tug on the rope.
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Way up in the half-light, a figure appeared,
Silhouetted against the night sky.
And then in an instant the dark storm clouds cleared,
As the moon lit the scene from on high.
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As they sat in the van, speeding through the dark town,
Big Jamie sat cracking his joints.
“What’s that in the bag, boss?” he asked with a frown,
And Nutsy replied, “It’s three points.”