Tremblin' Poem by MacGregor Tagliaferro

Long before the dream they called him Solo,
Alone became too much to say
He rides down the same trail daily
Weathered, hardened, beard mostly grey,
Long blonde hair under a hat as dark as
A fire-gutted citadel
Blue eyes fightin' back the tears
Tremblin' in his solitude

He comes and stands at dusk
His spot each time the same
He has to turn his words loose
Or they will grow too crowded to relieve
Carefully chosen, softly spoken
Words are flyin' all round him then,
They float on the breeze, ridin' the wind
Into the shadows that wait for night

In his early years,
His prime yet not in sight,
When sweet temptations
His wits did entertain,
Before beauty's force he knew
Or of false delight
Or to what burden
She did her captives chain

He trembled in his solitude
And first began to read, and write
And so to praise a perfect love
Love smiled to see what an awful disguise
He turned those words of the tale of old
And, that he might behold more mysteries,
Was set so fair to his eyes, a woman
That with her, learned the ways of love

Learned what it was to be half of a whole
No longer tremblin' in his solitude
They took their happiness
Beyond ridiculous, taste be damned
Then Fate, or God, or Magic,
Have it as you will, intervened
And the book closed with, dead, dead sighs
And he trembled in solitude

After that ridin' all over the West
From Mexico to Alaska
Willin' girls in saloons and cantinas
Gave shelter from the storms
Always searchin' for, never findin'
What had once been held so dear
Kept movin' on till one day
She spoke in a dream and he stopped

And so he reads and writes and waits
And rides down the same trail
Holdin' back and chokin' back
The long lost years and tears
And he stops where lost love lies
And reads his poems aloud,
Settin' the words free on the wind,
And trembles in his solitude