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Passions in Poetry

Kid McCann

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Senior Member
since 06-20-99
Posts 1123

0 posted 06-21-99 04:50 PM       View Profile for Lucie   Email Lucie   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions  View IP for Lucie

Where the farthest foot hills flatten
to the circle sweeping plain.
And the cattle lands surrender
to the onward march of grain.

Where the prairies stretch unbroken
to the corners of the sky.
And the farmers wheatfields rustle
in the warm winds drawing by.

There a cripple cowboy batches
in the haunts of old time heard.
And the balance of the story
is repeated in his words.

"So you never heard how I lost my leg
and hobble now on a crutch?"
So far as the story relates to me
it can't concern you much.

For its really the story of kid McCann
and the price a girl will pay.
For the fella she sets her fancy on
as only a woman may.

It isn't every girl who will prove
her faithfullness in flames.
But fellas who listen with moistened eyes
speak softly of other names.

Ned McCann owned the double star
way back in the early days.
He had come out here with a sickly wife
and a kid he hoped to raise.

Where the climate suited the feeble lunged
but life was scarce at its brim.
Till a little mound by a prairie hill
held all joys of the world for him.

And his double love would have spoiled her
had she been like me or you.
But her only thought was for her dad
and the mother she scarcely knew.

Cause she was bred to the ranges
and before she had reached her teens.
She could saddle a nag with the best of them
and ride in her smock and jeans.

We all gave in and she thought it fun
to camp with the round up bunch.
And she shared our pillow and shared our sky
and shared our pipe and lunch.

And all of us mad in love with her
but she was only a kid.
And she never dreamt what our feelings were
or the love struck things we did.

But even girls grow older
and though always kind and sweet.
There came a day when she realized
that we were at her feet.

But I had never spoken
nor had anyone in the camp.
When in came a foriegn puncher
a thorough bred black legged scamp.

And we who had known her since childhood
saw in our unbelieving eyes.
This willy sinner setting himself
to carry off the prize.

Of course it couldn't be stood for
and after chow one night.
It fell to my lot to inform him
it was time to take a hike.

Which I did in a straight forward manner
in a way to be understood.
And he looked at me with a sulky scowl
that boded none of us good.

But he did as he was ordered
to be absent before the night.
And we lost his form in the shadowy East
as he cantered out of sight.

Next day as I rode on my cayouse
apart from the rest of the gang.
I felt a sudden rip in my leg
like the jab of a red hot tang.

My horse went down below me
with my leg crushed in the clay.
And over me leered that fiendish face
and he grinned and rode away.

Rode away to the Eastward
I saw him fade in the sky.
And crushed and pinned from hip to heel
I counted the hours to die.

How long I lay I could never tell
for hours were like days to me.
Till struck with sudden terror
I tore at my wounded knee.

For the East wind carried a smoky smell
and I read in its fiery breath.
That half a mile of sun dried grass
was all between me and death.

With my hunting knife I hacked at my leg
but I couldn't cut the bone.
So I set myself as best I could
to face my fate alone.

The fire came on like a hungry fiend
on the wings of the rising wind.
And I wouldn't care to tell you
that I thought my life would end.

I saw the sun through the swirling smoke
and the blue sky far above.
And I bade goodbye to the things of earth
and the dearer hopes of love.

And I figured that I had closed accounts
for lifes uncertain span.
When a smoke blind bronco galloped up
and there sat kid McCann.

There wasn't much time for talking
with the death roll in our ears.
But we sometimes live in seconds more
then we could in a thousand years.

And before I could guess her meaning
she had thrown herself on my face.
And spread her leather jacket
which her warm hands held in place.

I felt her breath in my nostrils
and her finger tips in my hair.
And through the roar of the burning grass
I fancied I heard a prayer.

It was for only a moment
unharmed the flames had passed me by.
God knows why the useless are spared
while the faithful are called to die.

The form that had sheltered me shivered
and seemed to shrivel away.
And when I had raised it clear of my face
I looked into lifeless clay.

Darkness fell and the world was black
and the last of my reason fled.
And when I came back to myself again
I was back at the ranch in bed.

That was back in the eighties
and still I am living here.
I built my shanty on the spot
her grave is lying near.

And when at night my nostrils scent
the smoke smell in the air.
I seem to feel her form again
and hear again her prayer.
© Copyright 1999 Lucille Dobbins - All Rights Reserved
Senior Member
since 06-15-99
Posts 595
Oklahoma City, OK, USA

1 posted 06-21-99 04:56 PM       View Profile for sea_of_okc   Email sea_of_okc   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for sea_of_okc

Welcome aboard Lucie! I loved the storyline, then again I'm a hopeless romantic at heart (sigh)
since 06-19-99
Posts 145
Shelton,WA USA

2 posted 06-23-99 04:21 PM       View Profile for Krystal   Email Krystal   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Krystal


What a great work of art! Bravo!!!! I liked this a lot, and one day I'll write one this long and it will still be interesting, like yours... :-)

Shannon D. Montgomery
since 03-22-2002
Posts 284

3 posted 04-21-2002 06:41 PM       View Profile for Alicia   Email Alicia   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Alicia

~Wahoo! That was incredible. So well done, so much enjoyed following along. *Peace.
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