The Occult Bot

There are lots of tricks to get you started in writing. Sometimes a visual image will help. I painted a picture for my grandchildren. I wrote the poem that follows from this painting. Why not look at a picture or painting and then write an article or poem about it. It’s good practice!

Stagecoach Hit

by

Taylor Jones

(Monday, March 15, 1999)

The stage rolled down

The desert trail,

Bouncing, swaying, stirring up

The red dust–going pell-mell.

The driver was “Big-handed” Mike,

A bull of a man

Who folks didn’t like.

The man riding shotgun,

Was “Quick” Willy Fife

Who preferred his Winchester

Or his old Bowie knife.

And inside the carriage

Was “Fast-Fingers” Harry,

A gambler of note,

A cheater. Be wary!

And he sat across from

Madame Jan Hurst,

Her back to the horses,

A Derringer in her purse.

And next to her,

Sat teenage Fanny Holden,

Twas her first trip west,

Where she thought all was golden.

Yes, there was one more guy,

Who sat in the back,

Been shooting at rabbits,

That fled from the track.

The horses were tired,

Fifty miles to go,

The wheel brake had broken,

They had to go slow.

And Hell’s Canyon was scary,

With the Injuns and all,

And that’s where big Mike

Took his big fall.

A Navajo arrow

Pierced his chest.

He fell from the stage

Away from the rest.

Fanny looked out the window,

Let out a big scream,

And that’s when Willy fired,

Again and again.

And gambler Harry

Got an arrow in the neck,

And the rabbit-shootin’ man,

Began to attack.

He fired from one side

And then from the other,

And the Injuns were falling

On top of each other.

Madame Hurst took her pea-shooter

And fired it too.

But an Injun laughed

At her little do.

Fanny said, “Give me that thing,”

And she fired a round

As the carriage did swing,

And an Injun fell to the ground.

And the Injun’s did parish,

But the ones that did run,

And Willy reined up,

Reloaded his gun.

But the Injuns were gone,

He said, “That’s some shootin’.”

And the rabbit man said,

“You bet your tootin’”

But Willy looked at him and said,

“You don’t know who.

Fanny shot the chief,

That wasn’t you.”

And Rabbit Man said,

“I should get some credit,”

But Madame Hurst said,

“You’re not goin’ to get it.”

And Fanny blew

The smoke from the barrel,

And said, “Thank you Wild Bill,

I know you’re the real hero.”

So the stage rolled on

Into the night,

And Fanny hugged Wild Bill

As if it were right.

And the last I heard,

One way or the other,

Fanny and Wild Bill

Are still ridin’ together.

If you want to learn more,

Then look at my oil

Of that fast-movin’ stage

Goin’ pell-mell.

Okay, now you write something while looking at a picture or just out your window!

Copyright©John T. Jones, Ph.D. 1999-2005

John T. Jones, Ph.D. (tjbooks@hotmail.com)is a retired R&D engineer and VP of a Fortune 500 company. He is author of detective & western novels, nonfiction (business, scientific, engineering), poetry, etc. Former editor of international trade magazine. Jones is Executive Representative of International Wealth Success.

More info: http://www.tjbooks.com

Business web site: http://www.bookfindhelp.com (IWS wealth-success materials / TopFlight flagpoles)

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