Captured hearts
Part 1
My Josephine
Floating like an apparition from a dream I saw you
Across the saloon on the stairwell
A moment in time my lady I shall not forget
The sight of you has done what no man has ever
It stopped this beating heart
Outlaws, guns, bullets I have lived by
Fear and a racing heart for the weak
For where I have been
A weak heart becomes death
The look of you, My sweet Josephine
Standing there alone looking down at me
Was like that of an Angel
Coming to take the dying man home
A sweetness the taste of which I have never known
Had the sight of you come to me in battle
I would surely have died
AS my very being stopped
My concentration given over solely
To staring at this vision before me
I have seen the greatest evil in men
Felt the wind of bullets near me
And never have I wavered
Never, Oh Josephine, Until now
I have come here, to my home this night
And found myself unable to think of anything
But you
And so I write of you, to you
Until the cock crows if need be
And even then I suspect I shall leave much unsaid
I liken my passion for you like the hunt of a posse
I shall not be satiated so long as you remain free
And out of my grasp
I shall spare nothing to find you
To have you
May God have mercy on this man
I pray that I shall find you again this evening
And that this letter has found your heart
Until then my sweet….
-Wyatt
Part 2
Starry Night
Dry desert night winds slid across the prairies
As a horse draws near another rider
She sits alone near a creek
Tethered to a tree, waiting
Long flowing Gown revealing her to the moon
She watches him approach
This lawman, badge glimmering in the dim light
IN her hand, her heart, clutched a letter
He sees her
And stops
The horse prances nervously
Feeling his heart racing
Knowing his movements from many battles
The horse prepares
A moment passes
“Josephine”
A whisper to no one
But she hears
They stare at each other
Neither moving
Approaching Hoofbeats
Shouts
Two deputies ride to him
A murder
Trouble in town
He nods and they ride off
He watches them
Uncertain
Turning to her, her name escapes his lips
A tone of empathy
Smiling she shakes her hair out
Face caught in the moonlight
Body revealed quietly beneath her gown
Cocking her head to see him better she whispers
“Go my Wyatt…”
Heart pounding in rage he pulls on the reins
And rushes off to town
Hell to pay for someone
The sound of the hooves
Does not drown out the beating of his heart
And he knows
He is deep in love
With Josephine
Part 3
Letter from Josephine
My dear Wyatt
How it gladdened my heart to see you
Though brief was our encounter
I remember it as I remember you
Such a Handsome man you are My Wyatt
Does it interest you Lawman that I am alone
As I write this to you?
Dressed as I was when you left
Feeling the need to pull you near to me
And hold you
My hand trembles across this paper
As a cool wind blows into my window
Why have you not come to me?
Why Lawman, do you fear me
I have no gun
No desire to harm you
I am called from below
So I must take my leave
I hope this finds you
My Wyatt
-Josephine
Part 4
Together
Sitting alone and tired in his tent he ponders
And rages
Why did I not stay that night?
And he thinks of the dead man outside
And sighs
A horse approaches
And stops
Stepping into the night, a deputy sits on his horse
Folded letter in his hands
The scent of a woman drifts to him
Taking the note he retreats again inside
Candle light dances across the paper
The smell of her
He reads
Commotion as he bursts from his tent
People awaken and look
Hastily dressed, gun belt on shoulder
He rides
Hoofbeats pound as does his heart
Town draws nearer
And he prods the horse on
Faster
And like the wind he rides
To Josephine
Darkened town
All sleep well
AS their lawman rides the night
The horse stops hard in front of the saloon
His heart pounds
Leaping down he races in
And stops in the darkness
His feet carry him to the stairs
Those stairs
Where first he beheld her beauty
Rushing up them
To her door
To her
And stops as his hand touches the door knob
What if?
Someone else?
Anger flaring
And hurt
He leans back and kicks the door hard
It gives and slams open
A candles protests and flickers
Another goes out
A wisp of smoke rises and dances
Gun in hand he stares in
As she sits up alarmed in bed
Alone
For a moment neither moves
Slowly the gun goes away
The passion inside him explodes
He rushes in to her
To her arms
To his Josephine
They embrace hard
He and His Josephine
And he swears to her then
To never let her go
His Josephine
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