Wanda Lee was a desert mystery,
Riding wild waves of the dusty plains,
Upon the back of a blind, one-eyed mare,
The horse she loved, called Majesty.
On the evenings she rode into town,
All the men would run and hide,
Not from the glinting blades in her eyes,
Her swaggering gait, nor the strange way
time seemed to wait -
- for her to move through it.
Notable as these things were,
The men hid from a deeper fear.
This woman with an angel's face,
Was searching for her murderer.
You see, Wanda Lee would never rest
Until she found the one she had marked,
Ten angry talon scars upon his chest,
A gift given to him before she departed.
Out of dust storms, lit by a falling red sun,
Wanda Lee and Majesty emerged,
Ravaging through each western town,
To serve vengeance upon a coward.
Every door, floor, and cupboard turned.
No safe place would go unsearched,
No rest taken or given for any man,
until death was dealt,
Wanda Lee and Majesty would return
to disperse justice well deserved.
For all I know,
They still roam these lands,
Looking for the right cowardice man,
However many there may be,
Truth or lore, may you be not he -
To face the legend of Wanda Lee.
Copyright 2021 Joan Wiley