Welcome to the west... A place of ancient mystery and often violent clashes, the old west holds an interest and intrigue for many that is both inexplicable and enjoyable. Below, you will find a few of my offerings, in the area of western poetry/storytelling. Enjoy your trip back through time....
The Brave The brave is up at dawn His duties to perform, Sits by the cooking fire And lets his flesh get warm. He'll hunt today for meat, Some game he'll seek to kill. To feed the hungry ones, Make stomach growling still. The camp has come to life, At war the children play. The women talk and laugh While at their tasks they stay. Other braves are up, too, Good-natured voices heard. His people are as one, By daily need they're spurred. The brave takes up his bow And arrows, hunting knife He moves into the hills, So vital, full of life.
The Gunfight The vaqueros lounged at noontime In siesta beneath the sun, They watched the 'Malo Hombre' go by, And never had seen such a one. Though dusty and travel worn, His face was as hard as a flint And beneath his heavy dark brows His icy blue eyes had a glint! The gunman continued his pace Steadily down the long street, In search of the town's lone lawman He'd waited for so long to meet. At his side his Colt loosely rode, In its normal place on his hip, Once again ready for action. His movement was lithe as a whip. Yes, many a man had fallen To a well-placed shot of hot lead From the faithful Colt in his hand, And into the dust they had bled. At the first, in the beginning, The gunman was more than aware, Death could take him at any time. He fought with great caution and care. Yet through the long passing of years His heart had quite hardened to steel. Death, to him, no longer held fear, Its clutches would he never feel. A frightened woman's door was shut Cutting off the scene from the street. She wished no part of this violence That so many men rushed to meet. As the warrior clad in black broadcloth Continued on his fateful trip, He passed two boys playing lawman And outlaw, toy guns on their hips. As he passed they continued their game Unaware of drama that day. A life taking shot would be fired And someone would then become clay. Down there, at the end of the street By the jailhouse waited a man Who wore a grey five-pointed star, A six-shooter close to his hand. Sure of himself, yet quite aware A bullet could claim him one day, The lawman stood fast his own ground Determined he'd not walk away. When he first pinned on the tin star, The weight of it, yes, he did know, The need to stand tall for the law Even if to dust he must go. He stepped calmly into the street To meet the dark bringer of woe Words of his wife came to haunt him Beseeching him just not to go. He knew she could be widowed At the outcome of this cruel fight, In spite of what may be the cost He had to stand up for the right. The two continued advancing They steadily closed up the gap, Each man moved to meet his own fate. One of them would end in Death's trap. The space between them yet shortened, Their eyes locked together as one. The time had arrived for the conflict, And soon the dread deed would be done. The mothers of children sensed tension In the air, and slipped off the street Taking their charges to safety As two men faced out in the heat. Gunman and lawman stopped walking, Prepared there to play their own parts. A stillness fell over the street With pounding of onlooker's hearts. Then quick...with movements of lightning The two drew their pistols as one! The jarring explosions of sound Announced that the battle was done. "I got him!" gloated the gunman, Assured of a victory won. He knew that the lawman would fall His purpose for coming was done! Yet as he trumpeted vict'ry The dark gunman's vision grew dim. The spreading wet stain on his shirt front Told all that the loser was him! His belly was hot as by fire, His hand had just dropped his gun. The lawman, still standing had turned To his wife, who started to run. The gunman fell into the dirt, Would be buried inside of Boot Hill. The lawman returned to his home, Continued to stand for right, still.
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