8/11/2008

Lisa of the Mustang

The screendoor slammed,
she gave her "mother",
her parting words,
I'm tired of these geldings,
I leaving to where,
buckaroos walk amid the sage,
and wild stallions stories are told,
its time that I depart,
having a life of my own,
away from these geldings,
to be among the sage and stallions,
it is there where I want to roam.

The road took her eastward,
thumbing truckers for a short ride,
traveling towards Winnemucca,
having heard stories,
in the trade of wild stallions,
and buckaroos among the sage,
there by the side of the road,
two long days of bad rides,
some were near suicide,
she was left at Junction.


Outside the Junction stop,
time comes to roll the dice,
with a toss in the desert sand,
is it to be Snake eyes,
or a combo pair,
choices of Elko or Los Wages,
with no winnings or even a spare,
snake eyes rolled,
and thus her road to Elko.

Knowing not what awaited her there,
amid the wild stallions,
and buckaroos who sat and composed,
these would be better she thought,
than the "geldings" she has known,
Yes, the money was good,
but with the 30 hits you,
its time for a secure roll,
and snake eyes ensured Elko.

Thumbing past Carlin,
and the gold mine in sight,
a long walk down Idaho Street,
Passing Stockmans and other places,
which she never knew,
on to the convention center,
this is where she was told to go,
and what a welcome she had,
as she walked in the door.

They invited her on the stage,
and all gathered around,
with intense ears,
the sage buckaroos who composed,
her stories were quickly told,
of her life with the geldings,
for now she was now on the road.

The road from Mustang,
was a difficult road to take,
and making it to Elko,
walking down Idaho street,
she realize that this venture,
was not a fatal mistake,
becoming a endured legend,
around campfire light all aglow,
her stories are nightly told,
with red embers and guitars,
of Lisa of the Mustang,
and her life on the road.

To Honor The Hertiage


To honor the ancestory,
of our great Scottish kin,
Jacob Neely,
who stood tall,
with precision aim,
firing his musket,
and REDCOATS fell,
most proud to have his
rebel-celtic-blood,
run true in these veins.

Come on, my dear laddies and lassies,
take down you bodram,
and rosen up your bow,
pack up your pipes,
grab your kilt,
for we shall gather round,
in this piney woods moonlight,
dancing our jig,
our celebration will last,
until mornings early light.

Without those brave hearts,
we would not have
the liberty that we enjoy today...
To Honor...To Praise...

dar marker...Neely, Jacob -- b. 1758. d. 15 July 1845, age 87. Grave located in Liberty Baptist church, 6 miles east on Highway 80, Jackson, Rankin County, Mississippi. Marked: 29 March 1953 -- Magnolia State Chapter