(Humor/Poem) Wagons West


Wagons West

 

Wagon west from Virginia’s foothills

Six kids in the family

Four wheels of wood and steel

Two mules a straining at the whip

Bluegrass Appalachian foothills

Ohio river first then the mighty Mississippi

Cherokee arrows, thankful Lord, they all missed

Camping under the arch, evening sun pointing west

Wagon master hollering, everyone get in line

If the weather holds, and no injuns attack

We should all be at our new home soon

Spearfish Dakota, in about three week’s time

Mr. Custer says is no need to worry about Sioux

Says their running scared of the bugle and the blue

The train, we got six injuns riding point

You can see the hate of us in their eyes

Mr. Custer, on your words

Thirty families risk their lives

We had not yet cleared Nebraska

News came, yellow hair and the 7th

Would ride these plains no more

One more week we made the Black Hills

Land of gold, coal, and lumber

O yes and several thousand Sioux on every side

Now my family and I are all six feet under

In this cold ground we had hoped one day to plow

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