Thursday, September 15, 2011

Randolph Scott Loses His Shirt

I see the western skies a paler through the trees
A fine misted lady takes a petticoat break
Into the cold river she dares to freeze
Her shivering eyes into my soul do stake

Come, she beckons, the water's fine
Ignore the cinnamon rusty hue
Cross that cowboy gentleman line
I want to skinny dance with you

Hesitant I stand at the lapping shore
I'm supposed to guard the captain's miss
Not charge into the river and pore
A heart of mine into the preacher's sis

Mesmerized by her beckoning hand
I start to unbutton my studded shirt
She says she is the promised land
And next to go is my belt from Gert

She looks in awe at my magnificent chest
Oh Randolph she gasps hurry it up
Come get me while I'm at my best
Soon the others will be here to sup

Before the fly could be unmast
I heard the sounds of Captain's crew
Coming with game caught for tonight's repast
Laughing, carousing to start a merry stew

Clothes adjusted, dreams foregone
Randolph Scott puts his shirt back on.

3 comments:

  1. hahaha...sounds like a dream someone had!!! Benita

    ReplyDelete
  2. Quote from Blazing Saddles:
    Bart: Just give me twenty-four hours to come up with a brilliant idea to save our town. Just twenty-four hours, that's all I ask.
    Townspeople: [in unison] No!
    Bart: You'd do it for Randolph Scott.
    Townspeople: [reverently] Randolph Scott...
    Townspeople: [singing in the fashion of a church choir] RANDOLPH SCOTT!
    Howard Johnson: All right, Sheriff. Twenty-four hours.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Ha! That was EXACTLY my inspiration!

    ReplyDelete