Welcome to Beastly Tales. Each has a message, a moral. All are meant to have an element of humour. Naturally, any names included do not depict real folk but are included as part of the joke.
All rights reserved.
(As with Beastly Banter Beastly Tales is written and illustrated by Richard Hersel.)
Thank you for your following.
Richard Hersel
BEASTLY TALES
THE STUFF CALLED GOLD
The sun did blaze, over misty haze,
The prairie Bison did truly amaze.
They numbered into the many thousands.
The prairie showing them, over north and south lands.
Spreading out, as far as the eye could see,
“That’s where those beautiful Bison do be,”
So said gold miner Mitchell MacGraw,
As he steered his wagon up so he better saw.
Now MacGraw was well-known for being slightly mad.
Not necessarily a good mad, but somewhat bad.
If anyone trod on his toes, so to speak,
No-one would tell you he’d react at all meek.
Quick with his temper, and also his gun,
Mad Mitchell MacGraw was not noted for fun!
He roamed south land mesas and tundras of the north.
He lived off the land, nothing grand, and so ventured forth.
He’d suffer torrid heat and merciless cold,
All in the name of seeking out gold.
The panacea for the poor and untrained,
Whereby enormous wealth might be gained.
A prospector’s life is a gamble to be sure,
Addicted, and unable to resist, gold’s illuminatory lure.
And so went Mad Mitchell MacGraw
Happy with only tobacco to “chaw”.
Into the Saloon, fresh from the digs,
MacGraw and his mate, were dirty like pigs.
They slammed a nugget, down on the bar,
“Whiskey and beer, this nugget won’t go far.”
More nuggets appeared, to card playing they steered,
And winning pots when a lady appeared.
Watching his luck, was this odd cluck, a lady known as Jill,
She knew MacGraw, when him she saw, would pay her hotel bill.
Thought MacGraw, “How awful she looks, with her rouge and powder,”
“Haranguing the players louder and louder.”
MacGraw saw a card-sharp sitting at table,
Called him out to enable that fable,
To be exposed in the crimes so verily able.
The lights went out, guns blazed in the dark,
On went the lights, two dead with no spark.
Full of lead, lying there dead,
Was Mad Mitchell MacGraw, as he bled.
The undertaker, measuring-tape in hand,
Measured MacGraw and the card-sharp so grand.
“They’ll make a nice couple at the cemetery,”
“Where drinks and card playing will be complimentary!”
Now what about Jill and her hotel bill?
She was quick off the mark when she saw the table spill.
She palmed the nuggets and cash winnings too!
Putting them in her bag, out in the loo.
After all, those dead did not need that stipend.
It was only beneficial to Jill, and the hotel, in the end!
The description in your poems are so good, it really takes you to the era you are talking about and paints such a great picture in your imagination. Loved it!
Nice encouraging comment, thank you so much.
absalutely brilliant
Nice comment to hear. thank you.