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Just Let It Be

La Vie en Rose

Heads in the Sand?

If I've Learned Anything!

Silver Bullet

The Path We Choose

A Soldier's Integrity

What is that Sound?

Back in the 50's Tonight!

A Red Rose

Golden as Gold can Be!

Robin Fly Away

You See!

The Demise of the Old Cowboy

What Will I Miss?

Ode to Christian "Kiki" Fenot

Bobby and Me

The Highwayman

*Let My Spirit Soar*

C'est La Vie

Les feuilles mortes

Before Destiny takes me!

The Hanging Tree

Lost in Time

The Golden Years?

Beyond The Shadows

A Soilder

Ode to an Old Cowboy Poet named....Jack

Our Flag!

Come on Down!

For The Principles of the Red White and Blue

When it's All Been Said and Done

More Poetry >>

The Tyrant

If the sun never rises again,
and the moon falls from the sky,
Boniparte was here, he existed that
no one can deny.
But war may change all of that.
Bonaparte by nature is a warrior, a savage and
a killer. He’s invade Spain, Portugal, Austria
and Rome’s mighty pillars.

The rage with in Bonapate’s soul, boils and bubbles
like an ancient volcano. No one knows when or
where it will erupt again.

Today across the plains of Belgium the mighty tyrant
rides, all of Europe will soon bow to his sword in stride.

Mother Russia beware, the clouds of war are in the air,
for Bonaparte is turning East and you’ve wet his appetite,
as his juggernaut of six hundred thousand strong, rides
headlong into the cold winter night.
Bonaparte may conquer the world, but no tyrant can hold it.
So he to shall fall by the sound of the trumpets at the wall.

His name shall be synonymous through-out  history with tyrant, murderer, marauder off nations, emperor of death and destruction.

"He is the sworn foe of all nations and, if you will, of the whole human race!"

 The year is: 1812
an France is the place.

Jackie R. Kays


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The Tyrant




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