|
Cowboy Poetry
THE SAGA OF MONTANA LIL
Robert C. Atkin
There was a tough old gal from Kalispell
Went by the handle of "Montana Lil "
Braided black hair; an icy blue stare
A look they said "could kill"
But once in awhile she'd make folks smile
'Twas said she could sing like a bird
With a voice soft and rich in perfect pitch
The sweetest sound you've ever heard
There came a promoter from Pierre, South Dakota
Said he'd make Lil into a star
And the cash register rang wherever she sang
Be fairgrounds, theatre or bar
They travelled the land doin' one night stands
This nightingale of the west
Hittin' them all; big towns and small
Not takin' a day off for rest
One night Lil sang to a bawdy house gang
They all swooned at the sound of her voice
But one cowpoke neither clapped or spoke
'Twas like he ignored her by choice
Lil got riled and nearly went wild
It was like he was an audience of one
She danced and sang 'til the closing bell rang
Lil crumpled to the floor; she was done
Lil went away the very next day
This episode embued her with pain
She travelled back to her three room shack
A songstress not heard from again
This saga dragged on; after years she was gone
"Montana Lil" finally drew her last breath
From a chanteuse at the top to a bawdy house flop
Pity: She didn't know that cowboy was deaf.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
