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Poem

Grant Murchison was a ranch-raised young man,
Arizona territory was his land,
Six-foot tall, and blonde around the head,
Raised by good parents, even well read,
The whole dang town spoke highly of him,
His charming ways and earnest grin,
All thought he would take his daddy’s ranch,
He’d spent his teens working with the hands,
When his pa asked if it would be this way,
Grant shrugged,”I’ll settle down some day.”

Not long after after he stared going down to
Scully’s Oriental Cathouse and Saloon,
Took him no time to get used to drink,
After a few too many he’d up and sing!
People knew him to be fond of a good time,
Even when his songs had mixed up lines,
To the point the bartender became concerned,
Said,”Grant, a hot fire does not long burn.”
Grant listened and heard what he had to say,
Then laughed,”I’ll settle down some day.”

 A few days later, sitting at the bar,
He took a nation to playing the cards,
The whole of the saloon looked on, awe-struck,
He own hand after hand, beginner’s luck, 
and soon he was dealing his own table,
poker and faro, he was deft and able,
before long he’d won a chuck of cash,
but what he earned he spent almost as fast,
his pa said,”Son, it’s a dangerous game.”
Grant smiled,”I’ll settle down some day.”

With his new success, Grant wanted more,
and frequented the Oriental’s whores,
one in particular received his love,
a former slave-girl, soft as a dove,
daughter of a master, with tawny-skin,
she was a hundred things and more to him,
so much that in bed one summer night
she asked him if he’d ever take a wife,
he said,”Just you.  But it’ll have to wait,
until I’m ready to settle down some day...”


CONCLUDES IN PART II.

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