We slept under the open sky,
my pony, Rex, and I;
the wind was cold,
the clouds they rolled,
the bats and owls did fly and cry
and chilled my wretched soul.
For Rex ‘twas nothing new nor strange,
for me a drastic change
to spread my bed
on grass instead
in room of Hotel Open Range
with earth beneath my head.
It was a night of eclipse moon
yet dark could not impugn
mosquitoes’ sight,
they saw to bite
while others hummed incessant tune
and added to my plight.
No fire could we light nor keep,
nor fragrant tea bag steep;
great was my fear,
the foe was near,
my thoughts and insects did not sleep…
a chill was in the air.
The miserable rain came down
and tried my bed to drown,
cried, “Woe is me!”
I climbed a tree –
could fall asleep and fall to ground,
‘t would be a tragedy.
Dread! We knew not what new danger
grim night would engender…
dim as a dirge,
the moon emerged,
like Tonto without Lone Ranger
and with the clouds did merge.
The one I loved, I longed to hold,
to touch her would be gold –
but Jane was far,
like Orion star,
and the foul night did scowl and scold,
“It’s love your life did mar!”
Love brought me here, I did reflect,
jealousy, more correct,
half-killed her man
with my bare hand
and knowing well what to expect,
I ran and ran and ran.
None can deny the sordid fact,
‘twas dastardly an act;
to my regret
could cause my death
sure as Romeo and Juliet’s pact –
Montague to Capulet.
Troubles come soft but hard to go –
can bow retrieve arrow?
From one moment
inadvertent,
many moments be spent in woe
and sad sackcloth garment.
The dismal night we did survive,
the morning did arrive –
brought one more day
to run away
and thank God we were still alive
to keep the dogs at bay.
Day after day, night after night,
we rode and rested light –
with open eyes
we sleep and rise,
free, in furtive, fugitive flight
beneath the open skies.
Since then I have not loved again
nor found another Jane –
no time for one
while on the run,
my life and love went down the drain,
fleeing the furious gun.
Perhaps, one day we’ll grow weary
of the rolling prairie –
lie down and die
under the sky
and finally be truly free,
my pony, Rex, and I.
Copyright ©2001 by G. Newton V. Chance
- G. NEWTON V. CHANCE
- George Newton Vivian Chance (Trinidad and Tobago) -- member of the Poet Society of Trinidad and Tobago, http://poetssocietytt.blogspot.com/ and the World Poets Society, http://world-poets.blogspot.com/ -- born in Tobago on 3rd March 1957. While residing at Rio Claro was inspired to write over a hundred poems at the turn of the Millennium. Hobbies include playing wind instruments, building computers, observing nature, reading and writing poetry. Believes that the power of a song is in its ability to evoke emotions by the marriage of lyric and music but that music without lyric can be just as powerful, that lyric without music can also be just as powerful, that there is music in the lyric and that lyric can be simple yet profound. Also, in this the age of computers, would like to model his lines after simple and efficient code and, analogous to Object Oriented Programming, achieve most of his imagery from nouns and verbs, avoiding the bloat and excess of unnecessary adjectives. This is what he aspires to attain in his poetry.
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