Desperado
A lone desperado rode his lathered cayuse to old Santa Fe.
It was high noon, sweltering hot and dusty on that fateful day.
The handsome young outlaw wore deadly forty-fours on each hip,
And there were multiple notches etched on each pistol grip!
He dismounted and brushed men aside as he strode to the saloon.
By the look on his face, someone faced doom that sultry afternoon!
He ordered up a bottle of whiskey to wet his sun-parched throat,
Downed a couple of shots and gazed around taking note!
For days he had ridden to find his roving sweetheart LeNore.
Now, he spotted her with a cowpoke in a dark corner near the door.
Their eyes locked briefly and she quickly turned away.
Knowing what was to happen, she sensibly got out of the way!
The enraged desperado fingered his forty-fours and lit a big cigar,
Roaring, "You stole my woman and you know damn well who you are!"
Men scattered, chairs toppled and the two men fired their rod!
When the billowing smoke had settled, one had met his God!
Alas, the lifeless young outlaw lay sprawled upon the barroom floor!
Clutching him to her breast with tearful supplications, knelt LeNore.
They buried him in a lonely grave atop a knoll in Old Boot Hill!
Lenore placed petunias upon his grave, declaring her true love still!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2012
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