Open Poetry #41 |
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The Midnight Ride of Bill Taylor |
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Gunslinger Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 901TX, USA ![]() |
Living from a suitcase- And driftin’ cross the land. A breed we see too few of, A sure ‘nuff western hand. His beat-up Chevy pickup- No kids, nor nagging wife, And not a lot to show for, His sixty years of life. A scrapbook in his suitcase- He used to drink and show… His clippings to the youngsters, From his days of rodeo. He’s kept a dozen buckles, And a rig he never rides, But faded eight by ten is: His joy and his pride. It was taken in the sixties- At the big show in Cheyenne; A picture of a saddle bronc, And Bill, a youngster then. Written in a scrawling hand- Low down on the right: The caption says, “Bill Taylor On the day he rode Midnight.” After he’d rode midnight- Bill’s life was not the same. Though he rode a lot of others- That one was his claim to fame. A black horse from Montana- And mighty bad to fight, They say he was a killer- This horse they called Midnight. He’d killed a man in Casper, Then he’d maimed a dozen more- This wild one from the prairies, Was running up a score… Bill drew him up in Cheyenne- A bronc who’d not been rode. And Bill was quite a rider, And seldom he’d been throwed. They run the horse into the chute, Bill cinched his saddle tight; They sized each other up a bit, The cowboy and Midnight. Bill told the pickup riders- “You boys best stay shy; I’ll ride him to a standstill, Or me or him will die.” The stands grew deathly silent- The crowd could hardly wait, Bill dropped into his saddle, The he nodded for the gate. A blur of black explosion- Old Midnight bailed out high, His nose in that arena dirt, His hind feet in the sky… Bill nailed his shoulders cleanly- Then began to part his hair; No matter what old Midnight tried, The cowboy stayed up there. In a cloud of death-like silence, That arena was immersed… No man alive had rode the black, But Bill would be the first. Then finally it was ended- Midnight stood, his feet spread wide, The horse was rode, his streak was broke, Bill Taylor sat astride. Now he’s just a broke-down cowboy, But he walks with quiet pride- And lives with dreams of Cheyenne, And His famous Midnight ride. |
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© Copyright 2008 John R. Yaws - All Rights Reserved | |||
Clang Member
since 2005-12-15
Posts 222 |
Cool! |
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Marchmadness Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271So. El Monte, California |
You're on a roll, Gunslinger. keep 'em coming. Ida |
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passing shadows Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577displaced |
what a fine cowboy tale you tell always enjoy your stories in rhyme |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Enjoyed this fine writing...James |
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Roniece Dawson-Bruce Member Ascendant
since 2000-01-29
Posts 5689Sydney, Australia |
indeed as did I!!! love RDB Be kind at heart....for everyone you meet has their own battle to fight......... |
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aziza Member Elite
since 2006-07-09
Posts 2995Lumpy Oatmeal makes me Crazy! |
You are quite the story-teller and you have me on the edge of my chair as I read. That is no exaggeration. I have known some Bills in my time - and they are wonderful men. A |
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