Frontier Days

Fort Worth to El Paso, a long stretch of tracks Deputies securing Wells Fargo money sacks, With reins in hand, stagecoach en route Jessie’s gang kicks dust, chasing the loot. Oil lamps hanging on the tavern’s post Saloons filled with men who drink the most. Split rails and troughs in make shift corrals Mask men flee, hiding in many locales. Posse of six saddle up to chase Jessie’s gang leading the pace Wanted posters hung on banks and stables A round of whiskey lies on saloon tables. Colt 45’s rest on the long wooden bar Ranchers arriving soon from Omaha. Rustler’s rope up a head of cattle Rifle on the side, rope loops on the saddle. Looters grab the bags, each one rides a mustang Two gunslingers jailed, one will hang Conductor steps out, train whistle blows “all aboard”, wheels turn, white smoke blows, Across the plains and over the notch Riders travel with flasks of scotch. Straight beaten paths and dusty trails Someday those will be wild western tales.