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They came from all around
Many numbers to be found,
And they rode to challenge any kind of Law.
When some came to town that day,
Plans to rob and ride away,
Not one man anticipated what they saw.
Seven men across the street,
Guns in hand, prepared to meet
Any menace that would threaten them this day.
Men whose vow was to a town,
And they would not let folk down,
Even though the personal risk to them was grave.
In the center, one in black,
Rifle forward, shoulders back,
And a glare to turn an outlaw’s knees to mush.
Never once did he draw back,
More than ready to attack,
With a look that showed it wouldn’t take much push.
Next to him, a man of nature,
Eyes of blue and lean in stature,
And a stance that seemed to hold a certain grace.
Though the breeze danced in his hair,
And deportment showed no care,
There was air of purpose etched upon his face.
To his right, a colored man,
Tall in height and strong of arm,
And a look of interest radiant in his eyes.
Though a gentle man in life,
He had lived his share of strife,
As his skill with knives had saved and taken lives.
On the end, a gambler stood,
Who had turned his life to good,
When he met the men that stood with him this day.
Eyes of green that scrutinized,
Never wavering from the prize,
And a deadly aim when added to the fray.
At the far end of the men,
Was an utterance of ‘Amen’,
From a man who wore a cross and seemed serene.
But when irked he could be deadly,
Dishing justice in a medley
Of the physical and the spiritual, it would seem.
Beside the man in black,
A mustached man seemed slack,
And his stance suggested jaded in demeanor.
But the twinkle in his stare,
Urged the miscreants to dare,
So his friends and he could find a new endeavor.
Amid the giants stood a youth,
Full of justice, hope, and truth,
And a love of life that long had fled the others.
With a rifle in his hand,
He made seventh of the band,
And considered his six friends to be as brothers.
With the townsfolk hiding out,
So the standoff came about,
And the warning from the man in black was stated.
Though the outlaws were in fear,
Their full number ventured near,
A foolish move that soon would be berated.
When the miscreants fired first,
The seven men dispersed,
While shooting back and hitting all they aimed for.
Eventually all was still,
And the lawmen got a thrill,
Their eclectic band remained seven in number.
That the Good should e’er prevail,
Was the moral of the tale,
While the bad and ugly suffered for their greed.
In a land as yet untamed,
Men magnificently named,
Would succeed in their defense of those in need.
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