Don Johnson Poet Rhyme

I'M Waiting For the Jailer

I’m waiting for the jailer,
A burly drunken sailor,
To lead me to the gallows,
The bloody so n so,

Guilty must I  be ,
Of a crime in eternity
Another life was me,
When I strangled Micky Bird,
Was his time to go:)
 
To suffer wrongly all for naught,
pinned by the ears and silence bought,
ironic pain, a pardon sought,
is death an education...

Yes they are hanging me tonight,
hope the noose  can fit just right,
poor ol cowboy is a swinging,
and the crowd are singing, singing,
ol  Nick's a waiting, waiting,
 for this fella down below....

Don Johnson 19-june-11

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Elizabeth Wesley June 22, 2011 at 6:03 PM A great story said with such style.

Don Johnson June 19, 2011 at 5:19 PM Life has ironic twists, n sometimes flows, when you're not pist, bacon n eggs i have missed, on an open campfire. xo, Don

Carolyn Devonshire June 19, 2011 at 5:13 PM Swinging, but not singing a happy tune, Don. Cute poem! Love, Carolyn

Delysia Hendricks June 18, 2011 at 8:10 PM hahaha. Poor old Micky Bird. Happy swinging, cowboy. :))

Don Johnson June 18, 2011 at 8:01 PM Yes boys we lived a life in the early days, no strife, just a poking them old dogies, cross the plains to paradise, an visiting the bars, with the girls n whisky jars, paycheck was gone . time to ride ol poison, just some, a little more:)

Dr.Ram Mehta June 18, 2011 at 7:41 PM yes, I agree with Bob, both of you have the same type of poetry and I enjoy poems of both of you, Don