Little Miss Sure Shot Gains a Namesake
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This is the first "commissioned" poem, as it were, I've ever done.Seems an older cousin of mine is about to get married, and when she is her name will be Annie Oakley. My Mom asked for a poem about that. This was the best I could do.
Little Miss Sure Shot Gains A Namesake
Rhinestones and rawhide
Prancing horses and the dream
Of the Old, Wild West;
Dazzling the Old World crowd:
6 shots through a card tossed in the air,
The ash shot off of the Kaiser's cigarette -
These things made the old, defeated Chief smile;
"Little Miss Sure Shot" wowed the rubes and the Crowned Heads
Alike.
Thus the spangled life of Phoebe Ann Moses,
Ohioan farmgirl,
Winner of a Thanksgiving shooting competition.
She took her gift
And rode it into History;
The common clay of her
Molded itself into myth.
As may we all,
If we find our gift -
Shaping it with a faithful patience
Breathing a bit of our souls into it,
Becoming Mythic,
If only to our inner eyes.
And the myths sometimes come back around,
Wandering, unsettled spirits that they are;
To return as memories, dreams or namesakes.
Somewhere in the skies,
Riding a silver steed
The likes of which she could've never imagined,
The namesake meets a woman
Who lands him before they land,
As neat a trick as nailing
That falling, flipping card.
Her aim true as ever.
The ghost crowd roars,
The rhinestones blaze,
The old Chief smiles -
"Little Miss Sure Shot" hits her mark again!
Copyright © William Masonis | Year Posted 2019
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