.5. The Gunslingers Poem by David Threadgold

Dusty windswept town of timber
Blowing balls of tumbleweed
Itchy fingers twitch on holsters
Guns will move at lightning speed

Drunken cowpokes get the beer in
Ladies stood in silken gowns
Rowdy children start the cheering
Bonnets hide the ladies frowns

Horses tied near troughs are snorting
Two men counting paces ten
Local press seen here reporting
Who will live to ride again?

Old Jake on his rig stands steady
Mustn’t spoil their concentration
Man in black tape measure ready
His face shows anticipation

Count of ten they turn who’s best
Shots rang out and bullets flew
Both as good and now at rest
Now in the dust lie bodies two


© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles & Rhymes