The Ghost In The Saddle Poem by Paul Warren

The Ghost In The Saddle



There was a distant thunder sound
That in days past would have worn him down
But he was past those earthly things
As he rode on chasing evil in his wanderings

And he would forever ride alone
Knowing everything he loved was gone
For they say he was shot down dead
Bushwhacked with the danger gone unread

But he will seek the evil one
Who shot him dead the deed callously done
Will he find his rest from the lonesome ride desired
With his Laurel-Lee and their love together now expired

The wind that follows him now
Will not bend his back no how
And his cold dark eyes look on
With a smile or laughter forever gone.

© Paul Warren Poetry

Wednesday, September 5, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: ghost
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Paul Warren

Paul Warren

ADELAIDE, SOUTH AUSTRALIA
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