A humorous poem about a town and an outlaw. |
As the saloon’s swinging doors did part, the sight quickened the beat of every heart, for in walked the outlaw Big Bad Black Bart, the meanest gunfighter around these parts. Figuring that using their feet was being smart, one after another all the men did quickly depart. Anyone drawing the ire of Big Bad Black Bart would leave dead, riding the undertaker’s cart. Merciless Bart had made widow-making his art. Alert to danger, around the room his eyes did dart, until they came to settle on the town’s only tart. A smile lit his face. “Come over here, sweetheart!” For five days … and nights … they were never apart. Then just a taste of his meanness Big Bad did impart. Robbing the bank, he shot the sheriff dead in the heart. He and Miss Molly rode away, getting a huge headstart. The men in town were mad – their anger off the chart. A posse formed, their mission clear to all from the start – to maybe recover the money, possibly even to kill Bart … but they simply must get back their town’s only tart! Please check out my ten books: http://www.amazon.com/Jr.-Harry-E.-Gilleland/e/B004SVLY02/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 |