In my new novel, Reasonable Doubt, a man is murdered over the following poem…
They say youth’s folly is the pursuit of wealth,
It’s the theif of that which is not slowed.
The most precious thing you own is your health,
And you’ll need it to recover this lode.
Your search begins where rocks once grew,
And the music man, he spins through the night.
The pitcher’s goal, in his name replaces two,
The Lincoln Logs of life must give him a fright.
Smog without air makes no sense at all,
But adding gold makes him mighty and great.
A place such as this, a home he might call,
‘Lo he ignore the ghosts of those working the freight.
Protected from the Arctic’s wet kiss you’ll find,
As you begin the true quest from here.
The stalwart kid of course is kind,
But only trustworthy as far as the mirror.
Now a mile is the goal, are your legs burning yet?
Don’t worry, you’ve nearly arrived.
A heavy load, a truly great get,
I was amazed at how they had thrived.
Go quickly now, for the end draws nigh,
All great adventures must come to a close.
The entrance you seek, low and yet dry,
The chest in a trunk, protected by a rose.
If you’re persistent enough to have come this far,
The gold, I bequeath all to you.
A paragon of honor, I have no doubt that you are,
Though if not, this day you shall rue.
What does the poem mean? What are the clues? Check out Reasonable Doubt on Amazon in ten days and find out!!