Ballad of Annie Oakley

In the heart of Ohio, 'neath the wide Buckeye sky,
Was born Annie Oakley, in eighteen-sixty, nigh.
In a log cabin dwelling, near North Star's gentle light,
Phoebe Ann Moses, a star in the night.

Her childhood was marked by scarcity and loss,
Her father, a farmer, died from frost's cruel cross.
In a terrible storm, he met his untimely fate,
Leaving young Phoebe to wrestle with a heavy weight.

A sister too, in time, would pass away,
Adding to the hardships of Annie's early day.
But from these trials, a sharpshooter arose,
With a rifle in hand, she faced life's imposing foes.

At the tender age of eight, or so the tale is told,
Annie learned to hunt, brave and bold.
She'd shoot with a grace, so natural and free,
Supporting her kin with game from field and tree.

Quail, rabbit, squirrel, her aim always true,
In Cincinnati, at fifteen, her renown only grew.
A shooting match won, against sharpshooter Butler,
Her future husband, none could out-flutter.

Annie's skill was such, surplus meat she'd provide,
To markets and hotels, her fame did glide.
Her mother, resourceful, sold the game with pride,
Ensuring their survival, with Annie by their side.

Then came the year, eighteen eighty-five,
Buffalo Bill's show, where legends come alive.
Annie Oakley, the star, in a spectacle so grand,
Joined the Rough Riders, a rifle in hand.

Sitting Bull, the great chief, with respect so rare,
Named her Watanya Cicilla, in the open air.
"Little Sure Shot," a title of honor and might,
In Buffalo Bill's Wild West, she was a brilliant sight.

Outshooting Cody, winning hearts far and wide,
Annie's fame soared, on a celestial tide.
Admired by all, from McCoys to Hatfields,
In an era of feuds, her legend never yields.

But time marches on, as all stories tell,
In nineteen twenty-six, Little Sure Shot fell.
November's chill wind whispered a mournful sigh,
For Annie Oakley, under the Buckeye sky.

Her legacy lives on, in tales and in song,
A woman of courage, undaunted and strong.
In the heart of Ohio, 'neath the wide Buckeye sky,
Lives the spirit of Oakley, forever to fly.

January 29, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop

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