The Ballad of Mrs. Terri

Mrs. Terri, in sadness, bowed down her head,
Her small steps followed her husband ahead.
In front trotted two black horses by the priest,
While behind trailed the casket of the deceased.

Oh my poor Joe – the old woman sighed,
After twenty-five years, he left me and died!
She was never one to complain about him,
Even if she did, there was no one who’d listen.

The villagers didn’t like her husband much,
And tales of his drinking were often brought up.
Entering the bars, he never ordered water,
Only shots of moonshine, ten if he had no bother.

However, Joey was rarely found in a good mood,
He grumbled like an old bear on the hunt for food.
It was times like these that he drank more than he should,
And carry him home, the other patrons sometimes would.

Mrs. Terri and the old man would often argue,
Of course, it occurred that a fight would break loose.
Joey would yell while Terri would scream,
On her face, the next day, a hand mark would gleam.

That’s how they lived side-by-side for years.
Sometimes in silence, sometimes in tears.
This was the harmony that they had lived in,
Until Joey’s liver finally gave up on him.

Mrs. Terri looked down at the newly-buried grave,
Moving her lips as if though to pray.
But words left her lips she’s been dying to say:
You’re in the right place and you better stay!

Though she joyfully awaited her new life of peace,
She gave him the final honor of the deceased.
Out of her pocket she took her husband’s slim flask,
And poured some moonshine where he lay in the grass.

Time came to pass, Terri went on with her business,
Slowly forgetting her troubles and illness.
She went every week to visit Joe’s grave,
And set moonshine next to the flowers and vase.

Time passed like that for years on end.
Terri couldn’t have predicted what the future would send.
One day, a new man arrived in her small town,
And took to courting the widow he had found.

The woman took to the handsome fellow, of course,
She fit by his side like a saddle and horse.
At first, just in secret, they met in the dark,
Later sharing a bed and even their hearts.

His name was Gary, the newly found knight,
He talked a big game and all his lies were white.
He proudly regaled of the women who fell into his arms,
And how much he despises going to the bars.

A few months had passed, Gary finally spoke up:
Terri, dear, we haven’t been to church in months.
We could go ask for God’s blessing upon us,
And unite our lives in front of our loved ones.

Terri stood up without a word at that,
And poured liquid ’til it hit the brim of the flask.
She went to see Joey in the old cemetery,
To ask his opinion on whether or not to marry.

Watering the grave with the clear alcohol,
Barely audible as she whispered her call:
Help me decide what I must do,
I’ll take it as a blessing if you remain mute.

At the end of the day, the moonshine was gone,
The sun hanging low on the horizon beyond.
Not even a peep was heard from the grave,
So, Terri joyfully rushed home to celebrate.

Two weeks after that, they finally wed,
The village supplied the roast meat and bread.
Glasses and barrels full of plenty of booze,
No shortage of moonshine would ruin their mood.

The band kept on playing ’til the clock struck twelve,
The guests danced fervently until the music quelled.
Terri looked around while the music still played,
And came upon a curious sight with her gaze.

Gary, the one who never drank until now,
Sat under the table, eyes wide, open-mouthed.
Yeah, he shared a toast, ten with each guest,
And downed it like ice cold water from the chest.

The party was over, the chaos now dead.
It took three of the men to carry Gary to bed.
Terri sighed, and in silence she prayed:
Dear God, at least he wasn’t shouting and crazed.

The next day arrived, and a new world began,
Gary woke up and til noon stayed tucked in.
Pounding the table, he demanded his lunch,
Then whistled away down the street to the pub.

Winter arrived, and the man gained some weight,
He never found work and got drunk every day.
He eats everything between having two drinks,
With time to slap the Mrs whenever he thinks.

Life carried on like this for four or five years,
Terri missed her buried husband so dear.
Though at times they also fought too much,
He always took care not to beat her up.

On one rainy, stormy, and cold afternoon,
After a slap and a few kicks were strewn.
The woman left to go to the cemetery,
To end her own life and with it, her misery.

She took the bottle of moonshine with,
And wrapped a thick rope around her arm and wrist.
She knelt at the headstone, a habit by now,
And onto the grave, she poured a shot out.

Finally, then, she took a sip of the substance,
And told Joey all about her guilty conscience.
She asked him for guidance on what she should do,
Life can’t go on like this, it simply won’t do.

She sat on the grave and complained and complained,
Meanwhile, the bottle was emptied and drained.
Right when she swallowed the very last drop,
Joe’s words in her mind brought her to a stop.

Her glistening eyes shone, full of hope again,
However, nothing about her smile was human.
A dark red blush took over her face,
The most important fight, she decided to face!

A few weeks later, the time had finally come,
Terri went to find mushrooms in the woods and pick some.
She took her time, searching for only the best,
The one that’s all red with white dots on its crest.

When she got home, she poured out some moonshine,
And set it down by the mushroom dish, divine.
Collecting every ounce left of her self-control,
She waited for Gary to hurry back home.

She didn’t have to wait too long at all,
The door opened with a kick, as if she called.
Letting go of the entrance, his hand retreating,
Swung right at Terri’s face as his form of greeting.

He sat down to eat, both eyes seeing red,
Inhaling both food and drink as he fed.
As the meal was being consumed by his majesty,
The woman sat in the corner, chuckling quietly.

After eating his lunch, for his wife Gary paced,
His stomach was hurting, he felt out of place.
He took another swig of the bottle of moonshine,
And fell motionless into the bed shared with his bride.

Terri sat and waited a few hours longer,
To complete her plan with no trouble or wonder.
She got the big wheelbarrow out of the shed,
And pushed Gary’s body in, presumably dead.

It was pitch black now, nighttime had come,
On the barrow lay Gary, with his belly face up.
Whether he’s alive, she couldn’t bear to check,
Just to be safe, with a pan, she smacked him twice in the head.

The wind rustled loud, brought on by the storm,
Scarfless, she shivered while craving warmth.
Lightning struck the rain in flashes of light,
As Terri wheeled Gary to the cemetery that night.

She was tired at arrival, it was plain to see,
She got right down to it and started to dig deep.
She was nearly half done with Joey’s grave,
And wondered for when God’s wrath awaits.

Then, when the hole was fully dug out,
Throwing the muddy spade onto the ground.
She spit in the grave, then pushed Gary in,
And tossed the wheelbarrow in after him.

As Gary landed at the bottom of the ditch,
He let out a snort, making his final breath hitch.
But Terri could not hear the noise below,
It was drowned out by the midnight bells in tow.

Midnight had passed when she covered the plot,
And arranged the grave just as she ought.
Exhausted, she finally let out a sigh,
Well, poor Gary, he too left me and died.

She went home happily and lived her merry life,
If they asked about her husband, she shook her head and cried.
He went far away, to love someone else,
He said Don’t find me, and don’t send any help.

Many people saw the woman go to the graveyard,
Lying by Joey’s grave in silent regard.
They didn’t bother her so as not to be impolite,
While she poured the moonshine on the gravestone at night.

Slowly, the village forgot about Gary,
He moved away – They said, and on did they carry.
The story goes that Terri became a hard woman,
Burying two husbands, though one was just snoozin’.

The ballad was born in May of this year,
And I have something to say in the Epilogue here.
Mrs. Terri was taken by the rivers of time,
But in the grave still lay the men of the bride.

When the wind rattles the tombstone on the grave,
And darkness casts its shadow over the day.
There sit two figures, sadly waiting for Terri,
And the flask of moonshine, they know she would carry.

2025.11.17. Translated by Esther Brownwood