Ten Little Indians

My fingers were sticky, my palms full of sweat
		as I lay in the hot noonday sun-
Canteen now empty and not much ammunition,
		just a few bullets left for my gun.
Ten little Indians had trapped me that day
                in a canyon boxed in-no way out!
Looking for scalps they had thought to get mine
		but they wouldn't without quite a bout.
The first little Indian looked over a rock;
		my shot found it's mark-he was dead.
Another went peeping to see what had happened-
		my bullet went clean through his head.
The third, fourth and fifth then came yelling and screaming
		the distance was closed as they ran.
I carefully took aim although firing quite quickly -
		in moments I killed every man.
The last five strung bows and began quite a volley
		and soon arrows rained from the sky.
One hit my shoulder and blood started flowing ,
		another stuck deep in my thigh.
The pain was intense but I rigged up a tourniquet
		hoping to stop the blood's flow.
Dizzy, near fainting - how long could I last-
		the time left I didn't quite know.
Soon they came sneaking as shadows were falling
		I figured the end was in sight.
After the sun set they'd creep up the canyon,
		my scalp would be lifted that night.
I reached in my pocket and pulled out a cross,
		then held it up praying to God.
Reflecting the sun on the cliff high above
		was the sign of salvation- How odd!
The Indians stood up, seemed confused by the image
		there flashing quite large in full view.
They fled to their ponies as I started shooting ,
		but stopped after killing just two.
Just three rode away but they stopped once or twice
		looking  back in a strange kind of awe
I stood and looking, remembered - while praying -
		the life saving symbol I saw.
Somehow I was able to get to a pony
		belonging to one of the dead.
Then mounting I managed to ride to a ranch house
		 that lay about five miles ahead.
There isn't a way . . . .I can possibly say:
		that I understand all of that day.
Four lives were saved . . . . one of them mine
		it wasn't too late . . . .To Pray !

Poem by Ron Baron

Please View Next Page ~ ~ ~



ronbaron@web-access.net