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Open Poetry #4
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At Night By The River
| Open Poetry #4 |
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At Night By The River |
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John Yaws Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 860Texas 
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Twenty More Miles To Laredo “Twenty more miles to Laredo I’ve time for a drink and a meal.” His hand touched his hip, where they fell on a gun It’s grip made of walnut and steel. The Ensenal Marshall behind him- For being too quick with the gun... The dead man drew first, but McComas was fast And the corpse was a rich rancher’s son. The afternoon crowd in the Bon Ton was sparse McComas walked up to the bar.. Weary and dusty, he needed a shave... You could see he had ridden too far. A girl quickly moved up beside him... She smiled and said, “I am in love Buy me a drink, and see what you think; By the way I’m Billie Dove”. He tarried too long at the table- Whiskey fumes rolled back the years, He was a reckless, young cowboy again- And she hadn’t shed all those tears. He said, “ I am taking you with me”. She said, “ I am ready to go... We’ll start life afresh, and raise lots of kids Somewhere down in old Mexico”. McComas walked out through the batwings His walk didn’t take him too far. There at the hitch rack beside of his horse A tall man was wearing a star. He had the edge and he knew it- And knew he should go for his gun But murder was not in his nature... He spoke and the damage was done. “Over here, Anse”, he was drawing- The Marshall, as fast as they come. Both forty- four‘s spoke. and sent lead and smoke He whispered, “Oh, God! That was dumb”! The Marshall lay there in roadway- It was plain he was breathing his last, McComas was bleeding, a wound in his chest, His strength was a fading real fast. “Here”! He heard the voice whisper- Startled he managed to whirl... There in the alley, holding his horse- Was Billie, the young dance hall girl. It’s up in the saddle, he’s riding.. And feeling the wind in his face ... It’s funny his body is lying There where the gunfight took place. Billie is kneeling beside him- The man she’d decided to love What’s that she’s doing? She’s picked up his gun And turning it...”Heaven above”!!! The pistol is placed to her temple The trigger is pulled and she dies To fall on her man, as people come running To look on in total surprise. I’ve seen them at night by the river, Walking alone in the trees... I hear Billie’s silvery laughter.. Carried to me on the breeze. They’re planning on raising a family They’re looking at long years to love The gunman once know as McComas And his poor little soiled Billie Dove. . ------------------ Live large, people! ~GS~ http://www.geocities.com/montcogunslinger/HomePage.html [This message has been edited by Gunslinger (edited 11-28-1999).] |
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| © Copyright 1999 John R. Yaws - All Rights Reserved | |||
Marge Tindal 
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
You have me spell-bound with your tales. This one so woven with action that I found myself racing through it right up to the drawing of the pistols. My stars, Slinger ... you have more talent in your trigger finger than most writer's I've met. I so admire your work. ------------------ ~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~ noles1@totcon.com |
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ThUnDeRkYsS Senior Member
since 1999-09-23
Posts 727Wisconsin |
You have stricken me for words, Gunslinger. This is amazing. Simply put, amazing. ------------------ Life is what you make of it... Not what you let it be |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
All the ingredients of an excellent tale...and put together by an expert. Well done. |
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