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Best Poems Written by John Yaws

Below are the all-time best John Yaws poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | John Yaws Poem

Alone In the Night

I put down my book,
And I picked up the picture,
Of you, that I printed and framed-
Lost in your smile-
I gazed for awhile-
Then said, "You are going insane."

I know I can't have you-
You may not want me...
But we'll never know will we, dear.
Nor stroll hand in hand-
Through the Florida sand-
Alas, all my future is here.

Besides that, I'm older-
With too many miles...
That I've seen as I went down the road;
A rodeo drifter, 
A dreamer, a fool,
More oft than I've won, I got throwed.

I'll miss you, my darling...
Do you think of me?
We touched, and of that I am sure...
Perhaps it is better-
That our love stay unmarred,
Platonic,and perfect, and pure.

Reality's shattered...
More daydreams that one.
I'm glad ours will always exist.
A gossamer world-
Unsullied by fact...
We'll walk through the glow and the mist.

Farewell, little darling-
Your smile is so sweet...
Your eyes are two windows alight.
I bask in their glow,
When the lonely winds blow-
And I sit here alone in the night.

Details | John Yaws Poem

Do You Ever Think of Me?

As I sit in lonely motel rooms,
I think a lot of you.
I cannot purge your memory,
No matter what I do.

While driving, I am dreaming-
While dreaming, often sigh...
And melancholy are my thoughts
As endless miles roll by.

We made our plans together-
And then, we two did part.
If what we had was not true love,
What caused my broken heart?

I'm holding no hard feelings-
I'll shoulder all the blame,
It really doesn't matter-
The pain still hurts the same.

So, darling, let me ask you-
Are you happy being free?
I know this may sound foolish-
Do you ever think of me?

Details | John Yaws Poem

All Alone

Walking up a sandy draw-
Out in the desert land...
An oddity is what I saw,
Have buried in the sand.

“Saddlebags!” is what I thought,
“Dried up, and nearly gone.”
I wondered how they came to be,
Here in the sage and stone.

I dug them up, but underneath,
I caught a glimpse of bone.
And realized that it was, here,
Some traveler died alone.

Rotted cloth, a rusted gun,
Among the grim remains.	
“He almost made it,” mocked the the wind,
“His payback for his pains.”

I peeled apart the rotten bags,
And in my search I found-
A journal wrapped in oilcloth,
And it was leather bound.
				
I opened it, began to turn,
The pages I did bend-
“Where to start?” I asked myself,
Then started toward the end.

“Phoenix, May, of eighty-one-
Charley Wade, and me-
And when we pick the Pima up,
Our total will be three.”

He wrote about the journey,
Southeast, toward Mexico...
He spoke of virgin silver...
Of which, the three did know.

Apaches did for Charley-
Not far from Kitchen’s Well.
Buried near a watershed,
They left him where he fell...



The Pima died of snakebite,
The man was left alone...
Yet still the silver beckoned,
The fortune lured him on.

“I broke my leg at sundown-
And now my horse has run.
If Apaches do not get me first,
I just might eat my gun!

“Thirsty!” was what he wrote next-
“Ah, God, the sun is hot!
And I keep seeing water-
In places that it’s not!

Buzzards keep a circling-
I guess my race is run...
A shame a Tennessean.
Has to die here ‘neath this sun!”

I left him as I found him,
Half buried by the sand-
And realized that men like him,
Had founded our great land.

The guts to saddle up and go,
Where no one else has gone,
And fortitude, if need be,
To die there all alone.

Details | John Yaws Poem

Castles In the Sand

I would do my best to win you, if only I were free.
I know it would be heaven, if you were here with me.
To walk life's road together, go strolling hand in hand.
Alas, I fear I'm only...building castles in the sand.

If only I could hold you, and gaze into your eyes-
I cannot help but think, dear, that you would realize...
That we belong together, fashioned by a Master hand,
But maybe I am only...building castles in the sand.

I printed out your picture, then placed it in a frame-
And gaze upon it daily, while whispering your name.
I feel you are my woman, and I know that I'm your man.
My darling, it is tragic, building castles in the sand.

I hate the tides of life, babe, as they come rolling in,
Erasing all before them, the things that might have been.
I blink away the teardrops, as I take my pen in hand-
And once again start building, my castles in the sand.