Bonny Riders

Once in Scotland when western was somewhat the rage,
rode Clyde Wallace the cowpoke with gun in his hand.
He robbed villages everywhere--even the stage;
Clyde was happy to ransack all over the land.

He rode hills to which Scotland lays genuine claim;
and he slid through the hands of the law like egg yolk.
Heather moorlands extant are forever the same;
Wallace hid from the sheriff and like-minded folk.

Yet from Edinburgh did the good sheriff set out;
he and posse persistent in adamant quest.
O’er the moors they rode steadfastly with little doubt,
sure as sunstroke they’d put Wallace under arrest.

It was bonny the way they pursued cowpoke Clyde;
sometimes all of the men riding horses would stare.
Moors the scene in old Scotland for posse to ride,
moors that lie in between towns of Glasgow and Ayr.

When the evening arrived, they then stopped for the night;
on a hilltop they camped very close to a loch.
They ignited a fire beneath the moonlight,
and they slept on the moorland composed of bedrock.

Then some riders from inland soon joined in the chase;
Scotland’s beauty becoming--so many adore!
Men on horseback in search with their six-guns in place,
in the search for Clyde Wallace, resolved all the more.

So much flora and fauna, the moorland raiment;
also hen harriers and the grouse’s long claw.
But the sheriff and posse had one main intent;
riding lickety-split in the name of the law.

It was bonny the way they pursued cowpoke Clyde;
some men thought that they‘d croak, and such thinking unnerved.
But the posse made good o’er the lush countryside,
when Clyde Wallace was captured, and justice was served.


32 Lines
Writer’s Cramp Winner
2-7-16
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Requirements:
--cowpoke
--yolk
--sunstroke
--croak