lycanthropy (or the ballad of sammy lyall)

Strange things happen by the light of the moon
When the air is quiet and still
And somewhere nearby, an animal cries
Giving passersby a chill

Walking one night through the forest of Keith
Bringing home sup for his mam
A couple 'o pheasants, a few small hares
And a pilfered hock of ham

Little Sammy Lyall spotted the strangest of sights
Weaving through the trees
A sharp-dressed man with a freshly killed lamb
Slung o'er his shoulder with ease

Little Sam shook his head and his face turned down
That man was up to no good
With a glance to his left and a peek to his right
Little Sammy ventured into the wood

The trees were dense and the was scrub thorny
But still Sammy soldiered forward
Determined to catch the man in some heinous act
And maybe earn a reward

Little Sammy was so smitten with delusions of gold
That he didn't even see
That before him was a large circular clearing
Where the man knelt down on his knees

Little Sammy stumbled blindly forward
And fell onto the grass
What happened next was so very strange
That nothing could surpass

The man turned then with eyes of fire
And looked down at where Sam lay
His mouth opened in the meanest of snarls
Sam found he had naught to say

Then the man shuddered and let out a moan
A blood-curdling growl
That rose in pitch until Sammy was sure
It had become a howl

His eyes closed and his body stretched
Sinuous and slick
And from his skin sprouted a curious coat
Of black fur, full and thick

Little Sammy could not hold back a cry
His heart hammered with fright
The man showed off his sharpened choppers
And Little Sam took off in flight

But the man -- now beast -- proved too quick
For Sammy to outrun
And now, alas, I must say
That Little Sammy Lyall is done