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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required It was coming up for Christmas in the town of Soup Creek Everyone was in good spirits and they had been all week Jenna's saloon was very busy and Tania was about to sing Folks had to stand and Jenna wished she had more seating. Tom glanced over to the gambling table at an empty chair Normally Milt would be playing his hand but he wasn't there Mayor Tom felt quite uneasy; something just didn't feel right Milt sat down at the gambling table had been a familiar sight. Ranger Dave and Deputy Terry came in and stood at the bar They'd come in to hear Tania sing and Tom play on the guitar After they'd finished Tom then asked Dave "where did Milt go"? Dave said "he was out of town and had gone down to Mexico". Christmas came and went but of Milt there was no clue Folks were getting concerned now; he was long overdue Then came a telegram from a small town in West Virginia The operator in the telegraph office handed it to Anaya. She said I'm passing the mayor's office so I'll hand it to Tom Who looked quite puzzled and wondered who it was from Tom opened it very slowly and then he nearly fell back It said Milt had passed and he wouldn't be coming back. Tom went to see Sheriff Koplin to show him the telegram He read the news in disbelief and he muttered "oh damn" " Get over to the square and let the townsfolk know" he said "Times getting on so ring the bell or they'll all be in bed". Tom rang the town bell loudly and everyone gathered around It was noisy then Tom raised his hand and there wasn't a sound Tom said " I've got some bad news about someone we hold dear " And then there was loud gasps and sobbing and many a tear. Tania and Deb stepped forward, and started singing abide with me Then the townsfolk joined in it was a touching sight to see It was late evening and crickets chirped as the sun went down A bright light had gone out forever in our peaceful frontier Town. The saloon will be closed tonight as Soup Creek grieves in sorrow Jenna said she had something to do and would open again tomorrow Milt's chair would be removed from the gambling table on the floor And raised up to the balcony in his honor, to be sat upon no more. Milton was chuffed to be part of the Soup Creek story and I wrote this poem to honour him. The last stanza was written by Jenna Logan (Sleep well Milton, we'll never forget you.) Written on 29th December 2022.
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