One Shot Billy

Hello viewers, this is a poem I wrote in my 20's while on a night shift back in my space and satellite days, with Marconi Space. 

The original was written and illustrated in the nightshift handover book, so David the guy taking over in the early hours would see it..

I made four of these as the nights went on and intended writing a whole series to make a book of poems called The Book of David....

I hope you enjoy this trip to my past.

                                                                 

One shot Billy

 

Illustrated by Paul aka BestDrWho

David’s in his western gear, 
Well at least that’s how it would appear
He has one elbow on his steer,
To rest it while he’s sipping beer
As he walked back in to the bar, some folk Stunned, went quiet

Then one man Speaking for them all, said,“heck he’s on a diet.”
Dave moseyed  up to the bar and tapped the barman’s shoulder.
He was just as thin as Dave but he was slightly older.
“Can I have another drink?" He asked feeling silly.
“What ya want?” the barman asked.
"I’ll have a sarsaparilly."

Drink in hand he spots The Game, and asks, “can I join in?“
One man looked, and answered “yep!" Now poker will begin.

The game went on for minutes and Dave got over heated.
He jumped up in a headstrong rage and said, “That what name cheated!“

“Well that there’s fighting talk." His  opponent  said quite quickly.
David’s face turned green to white, in fact he looked quite sickly.
The people said, “we’ll clear the street, so you can meet at noon."
So one shot Billy said to Dave, “you’ll meet your maker soon.”

At the crack of noon Dave awoke to face his awful fate.
Then sent a note to Billy to say he might be late.

Nervously he walked to town and past the shop called Macy.
Billy stood there dressed in black, and David white and lacy.
They stood there face to face, the sun made shadows long

David felt his bottom squeak, he wasn’t feeling strong 

Dave lurched, went for his guns but Billy was too quick.
Another notch went on his gun, this made it his hat-trick.

“David will you  get up please." Mother shouted from the hall
David  sighed with great relief he must have dreamt it all.

Grateful he was dreaming, of fighting in the west.
He strolled down stairs for breakfast, Mum’s cooking at its best.