Family ties

Riding back from Laramie
a thought besmote my head:
what if Grandpa Delmar
should be lying somewhere — dead!

Frantic now with morbid thoughts,
I bade my horse to speed,
I raced all through the ink-black night
upon the family steed.

Imagine how my heart leaped up
and danced like Fred Astaire,
when I heard Grandpa’s cries for help
— he’d fallen off his chair.

How strange the telepathic ties
that bind up families,
though they only seem to work
on the road from Laramie.


 

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