Horekey
They called him Horekey from Lon Cloche
a waso half baked in the Chilean sun
His eyes soft blue with a freckle or two
soft spoken in a mixture of tongues
Horekey rode a flashy black Morgan
tapader'os hand carved out of wood
Spurs of silver rang out as he rode
a modern day Chilean Robin Hood
Horekey only stood four foot six
with his Stetson hat it added a foot
Strapped to his side a silver etched sword
and a sling shot he made as a hoot
With prestige of a Matador lined in full dress
the quietness never seen in a priest
Seventeen children by three separate wives
a hundred grand-children known to exist
Who's to say if he's bad or good
there's been statues of people less known
Each of us wish we were as great
only a few can tickle your funny bone
So they chipped etched carving in stone
a tribute in Horekey's behalf
Right in the middle of town in Lon Cloche
as they laughed with his pants half staff
Sister Terresa didn't think it was funny
having a full moon in the middle of the day
So they took issue up at town councel
and here's what they had to say
Lets make real pants plumb out of leather
suspenders to hold up his pride
Only when it rains or blows from the south
will Horekey wish he something to hide
Darryl Ehlers--- Lynden WA 98264
Share
Print
Save
Follow
