To polish his or her skills, a novice poet can put an original twist on the rhyme, rhythm, and story line of a great poet’s famous work. For this narrative poem, the inspiration is Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s “The Skeleton in Armour” .
THE SKELETON IN RAWHIDE
Neil Harding McAlister
( With a tip of the Stetson to Mr. Henry Wadsworth Longfeller )
Speak! speak, you ghostly guest,
Who, like a cowpoke dressed,
In chaps and leather vest
Comes here to bug me!
In this nice restaurant
Six-guns and spurs you flaunt!
Why pick on me to haunt?
They must have drugged me!
My head was feeling queer
After too many beer.
I would have run in fear –
But was unable.
Slouching to where I sat,
He hung up his lariat,
Pushed back his Stetson hat,
And slumped at my table.
Then from those limpid eyes
Red streaks there seemed to rise
Like when the stormy skies
Flash in Montana.
But, when the phantom spoke,
All he could do was croak.
He cleared his dusty throat
And loosed his bandana.
“I wuz an old cowhand.
I had adventures grand!
But no Zane Grey in this land
E’er told my story.
Though I wuz schooled a mite,
Maybe I ain’t too bright:
I never larned to write.
You do it for me.
“Call yonder waitress near!
Order us two more beer!
You’re gonna set and hear
‘Bout my days of glory.
You do just like I said,
Or like me, you’ll be dead
‘Cuz I’ll fill ya full of lead.
Then you’ll be sorry!
“When I wuz young and wild
I loved a rancher’s child.
Purdy wuz she, and mild –
A jewel among wimmin.
Gettin’ hitched wuz my goal:
I’d loved Sal, heart and soul,
Since down by the fishin’ hole
I spied her swimmin’.
“We loved each other true.
Her Pa, Jake Pedigrue,
Said, ‘No, this just won’t do.
Hit the trail now, boy!
I own a big, ol’ spread
With a few thousand head.
No gal of mine will wed
A no-account cowboy!’
“Though her Pa had been cruel
My sweetheart weren’t no fool.
She couldn’t larn in school
What I could teach her!
When Jake was not around,
With her Ma’s weddin’ gown
We high-tailed into town
To visit the preacher.
“We spent our honeymoon
In the most fancy room
Up above Nell’s Saloon.
Sal wuz a honey!
Went to it with a will,
Then ate and drank our fill,
Fixin’ to pay the bill
With her Pa’s money.
“Early the followin’ day
Knockin’ disturbed our stay,
Promptin’ my bride to say,
‘What’s the commotion?’
We could have slept a spell,
But it wuz the owner, Nell,
With some bad news to tell,
I had a notion.
“ ‘Hate to disturb you dears,
But Sally’s Daddy’s here.
He’s mighty riled, I fear.
Better skedaddle!’
Jake caught us unprepared.
Grabbin’ our underwear
We run down the back stair
And hit the saddle.
“Over the hills did ride
Me and my blushin’ bride.
We traveled far and wide
Tryin’ to outrun him.
Down by a shallow draw
Then Sally’s ornery Pa
With twenty men we saw.
I couldn’t outgun ‘em.
“There stood that varmint Jake,
Mean as a rattlesnake.
My knees begun to shake –
I wuz a goner.
Pity to die that way,
But I turned to Sal to say
I still would bless the day
I clapped eyes on her.
“Sal cried, ‘I chose this man!
See this here weddin’ band?
Love placed it on my hand;
Death won't remove it.
Pa, spare my husband’s life!
Save me a widder’s strife.
I am his lovin’ wife,
And this ring proves it!’
“Jake stood and scowled a while,
Then gave a little smile.
‘Boy, I don’t like yer style –
I oughta plug ya!
But, from what I just saw,
You’re my true son-in-law;
And that makes me yer Pa.
Guess I should hug ya.
“ ‘Fact is, I’ve got a mind
Havin’ a son is fine.
I’ve worked hard in my time,
But I ain’t crazy.
Don’t aim to labor ‘til
I'm up on ol’ Boot Hill,
Listenin’ to whippoorwills
And pushin’ up daisies.
“ ‘If’n a son I’d sired
I would have long retired.
I'm old and uninspired
Ranchin’ alone now.
I love my daughter dear --
But she can’t rope a steer.
Now you’re my son, ya hear?
You kids, come home now!’
“Picked up my droppin’ jaw,
Shook hands with my new Pa,
Grateful that on the draw
I wuz not quicker.
Some sez that in the West
Blood kin is always best.
It seemed that in this test
Water wuz thicker.
“We rode back into town.
Smiles had replaced our frowns.
This cowboy settled down,
And we wuz happy.
Soon, if you follow me,
As it wuz meant to be,
Twigs on our family tree
Called Jake ‘Grand Pappy.’
“Reckon my yarn is done.
Can’t spin another one:
Yon comes the risin’ sun.
I got to mosey.
You’ve been a nervy host,
Seein’ as I'm a ghost!
Let me propose a toast
To finish yer poesy.
“Pardner, as you can see,
With love and charity
Even an enemy
Might be befriended.
‘We’ll choke on spite,’ said Pa,
‘If it sticks in our craw.’
Here’s to the West! Yee-haw!”
-- Thus the tale ended.
© 2003, Neil Harding McAlister
Sedona, Arizona
Email: neilmac@durham.net