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william b lightfoot

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Shadow Ridge ©
by william b lightfoot → (All Poetry by william b lightfoot)
   Rated "R" by the Author.
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A special childhood place, sacred to one young boy.


Poem Artwork

 

 

How I wish that I was back,

Up on Shadow Ridge,

Where the midnight air had a biting chill,

And you could hear their voices on the wind,

Oh but just to dream,

Up on Shadow Ridge,

 

I'd go to that special place,

When I was just thirteen,

Down behind the pine trees,

Where noone has ever seen,

 

I'd sit up ther and daydream,

Sometimes all night long,

Just listening to the wind,

Till I came home at dawn,

 

How I would pretend,

To be all those men,

Like Frank and Jesse,

So rough and wild back then,

 

Dreaming of robbing trains,

Taking the money and hide,

But now the sheriff's right behind us,

It's a never ending ride,

 

I never have stopped thinking,

About those good old days,

When the cowboys rode the plains,

Under the sun's burning rays,

 

Oh and how they lived and died,

So hard and so fast,

I guess I'm just an outlaw,

Living in the past,

 

I'd look out across the land,

As far as the eye could see,

There were pictures of posses,

And they all were chasing me,

 

So I rode hard through the sand,

Well into the night,

And if I make it to my hideout,

Well that is where I'll fight,

 

Now very few have survived,

While so many more have died,

I'd sit up there and wonder,

And it'd bring a tear to my eye,

 

How they're always on the run,

And watching their backs,

An outlaws lifes a gamble,

And the deck is always stacked,

 

How I wish that I was back,

Up on Shadow Ridge,

Where the midnight air had a biting chill,

And you could hear their voices on the wind,

Oh the things that I saw,

Up on Shadow Ridge.

 

 

 

  

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