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The Grinning Man
A grinning man sits under the marigold,
He sips his Scotch in a small crystal glass,
His eyes are cold,
Features sharp as steel,
The shovel rest against the marigold trunk,
Shotgun rest against his lap,
The Bible underneath his gun.
The grin is wide as the Devil's smile.
"What a day to be alive!",
The man just shouts as he stares out over the horizon,
The clouds roll in,
Tangled and unraveled about,
The bombardment of thunder as it roars,
the dancing lights of lightning in strife.
The grinning man,
how he looks so mean,
The grinning man,
gone mad with the storm you see,
The grinning man,
he put a walking dead man down.
Oh, that grinning man...

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The inspiration for the poem, came from the interest of old Western songs, a number of stories with odd characters. I hope people get an enjoyment out of reading this poem and the imagery in place.