Poetry Page II…



The chase certainly has inspired some great poetry…

Here is page II for poetry about the chase, Forrest or any other Thrill of the Chase related topic. I am hoping poets will create new poetry and place it on this page.

If you would like to peruse theΒ Β verse on the first page of poetry clickΒ HERE.



836 thoughts on “Poetry Page II…

      • That’s scary too O.O the invisible reply. Not too sure I’m keen on the “Love,” part though 😯 And as if this treasure hunt wasn’t hard enough, gotta figure out this mystery lol

  1. Dal created a clean slate
    For the poetic and the witty.
    So on the second poetry page
    I submit my own graffiti.

    I may not be so witty, but I’m a poet in my own mind. Thanks Dal!

    • Yes I guess I will leave a few here for you all to read but only when you find the need. I wrote this one for Forrest Fenn

      You have put me on, a quest my friend
      A quest of which, one may never end

      A story of life, and how it began
      created to understand, a adventurous man

      He lived his life, in such a way
      to love to unearth, The old sun clay

      on his journey, he lived within time
      with all of his knowledge, deep his mind

      As a boy he loved, with his father to fish
      and collect the tops, he tossed in the dish

      A marble he made, at school with his hands
      As time passes by, his heart grows and withstands

      This boy he learned, his lessons in life
      some of which he would rather cut out with a knife

      He took to the air, with out much care
      with in one moment, he woke on a dare

      alone in a jungle, his mind, he did poke
      Asking the question, is life a cruel joke

      His eyes made a thumb, impression on all life
      At home he knew he had, the worlds best children and wife

      He tossed his ambitions, out to start knew
      what would the world think, of the time that he blew

      The man that had created, his life his own way
      He Wood surly be granted, at least one more day

      His life is now hidden, within in a treasure box
      a trail to be followed, by only a smart fox

      The story in all, speaks to, you must be bold
      The treasure will be found, by braving the cold

      There’s more to this man, and all will be known
      for in the wilderness is his mind, a place he calls home

      At peace with the beauty, that’s all abound
      wild creatures and flowers, will surely be found

      The peace of the river, a place of his past
      the future is where, this embody will last

      As human he has traveled, through space and through time
      Only to create, endless meaning and rhyme

      To find what is hidden, will not be the end
      for within your journey, you’ll find Forrest Fenn

      By Jeff Burch

      • This one I wrote for Dal’s site May you all have a very good day or night.

        Just for the fun of it

        Have fun, I will, I will, I say.
        I will have fun, yes fun all day.
        Rain or shine that treasure is fine.
        Waiting for one to look behind.
        As cold it is, and in the wood.
        To find that treasure would be good.
        To all I say, it is where it was.
        The finder will find it just because.
        one knows the path that one must take.
        And believes in Forrest Fenn for heaven sake.
        So to all of you, I must say.
        I did have fun, yes fun all day.
        I left the treasure where it was.
        The story will not end just because.
        Its purpose in life, it must live on.
        The truth is, my solve was wrong.
        Have fun out there, but do be safe
        Its out of my hands I’m not in a grave
        To search and find, one must seek
        To find it tired and now I’m weak.
        Good times to all that carry on
        Go out there in life and right a wrong
        Be good, be true, this one must do
        That treasure is there waiting for you.
        Have fun, have fun, have fun all day
        Go out and play the Forrest Fenn way
        Time will not wait, for me or for you
        For one must believe, one know what is true
        So this I do end with words I must say
        Go out and have fun, yes have fun all day.

        BY Jeff Burch

      • No time now to say
        Thoughts fancifully arranged
        But that day I saw magic
        That day was today.

  2. And one for Forrest,,,

    There once was a fellow named Fenn
    Who constructed a poem with a pen.
    He watched all with glee
    As they barked up the wrong tree
    And had to start over again.

  3. Since I can’t write poetry I challenged myself to write a riddle. It is pretty easy but it was fun πŸ™‚

    I have a home in a Child’s Rhyme
    Hiding behind the tides of time
    Catching the imagination of a boy
    Over me for happiness and joy…

  4. Come one Come all…
    To Fenn’s Master Ball,
    Is it a puzzle or a maze?
    Well I don’t know…Will we ever know?
    Where do we go…Where do we start?
    Do we go down the canyon and up the creek?
    Are we talking about the Rocky Mountains and Joseph Meek?
    Fenn’s treasure haunts me when I sleep…
    I get tired and look over the clues again and repeat.
    Surely I have missed something along the way…
    I have went into the woods and read many books,
    Why can’t I solve this mystery in front of me?
    For Mr. Fenn is a wise silver fox is he!
    Where are his marbles… he’s collected for all to see
    He’s made his grit through handwork and wit,
    He’ll have me hunting for this thrill you see…
    Now I’ve made no sense, I’ll be hunting until I’m 103.
    Time waits for none but only whispers bye.

  5. In the shadows INDULGENCE sits awaiting
    A maverick nears,all the while debating
    INDULGENCE is but a pounce away,sitting,evading.

    A mountain grins while a bird keeps a watchful eye
    A trout glides over boulders and swims on by
    Here the purple and yellow flowers flourish ,one wonders why.

    A man wonders north,east,west then south and circles back to where,
    A woman sits and wonders why it took so long to get there.

    INDULGENCE sleeps.

  6. Angels in Evergreens

    High upon a mountain top
    Where angels often land,
    A town graced with miracles
    Touched by our Savior’s hand

    Unspoken words forgotten
    And stories never told,
    Many came for solace
    By the river of lost souls

    Angels in Evergreens
    Speak to me tonight,
    Telling me to let you know
    That you will be alright

    Believe in what you cannot see
    For that is what you asked of me,
    Angels in Evergreens
    Lie still til’ morning light.

    The sun will rise tomorrow
    And melt the April snow,
    Exposing all the beauty
    Of a time so long ago

    The artist draws his picture
    While the poet writes his song
    The dreamer and the prophets
    Knew your faith was never gone

    Angels in Evergreens
    Speak to me tonight
    Telling of a promise,
    Protected secret out of sight

    Faith is what you couldn’t see
    Forgiveness came when you Believed,
    Mercy is to all of thee
    From Angels in the Evergreens.

      • Sahara, this is one of my favorites too. I haven’t seen your name before, so welcome, or welcome back.

        • Yes, I’m a newbie but I’m loving all of this great poetry so I thought I’d also drop a line:

          Dreaming Again:

          The “Thrill Of The Chase” was consuming my mind,

          eager to find riches of every kind.

          I went on a journey across this great land

          experiencing all the wonderous beauty that was right at hand.

          I truly was mesmerized by all the
          splendid sights

          it was just those darn grizzly bears
          that I did not want to fight!

          So quickly the “Great Chest” I
          just left it behind

          left it so someone else might have
          the joy to find.

          I definitely was given the “Title To The Gold”

          which is a closeness to God
          in my heart I will forever hold.

          This was truly a wonderful gift from
          Mr. Forrest Fenn

          to whom I’ll be forever so grateful
          and to whom my blessings I send……

          • Good job Zahara …..yes there are more treasures in this ” chase ” than gold……enjoy your journey….welcome to the chase….. πŸ™‚

  7. We are on the road again –

    Inching our way to Colorado and the shadow.

    Found this poet that says it all for me.


    When a challenge feels like a hex won’t even try, it’s too complex take this approach, it is a chinch

    Little by little – inch by inch First impressions are often wrong solution found, before too long the proven way, when in a pinch Little by little – inch by inch Complex issue, when broken down a set of basics is what’s found take on the task without a flinch Little by little – inch by inch There’s never a goal out of reach if you’ll just practice what I’ve preached let this concept be one you clinch Little by little – inch by inch

    As I ponder the places I plan to go,
    And look back on the ones that I already know,
    I wear a grin like a Cheshire cat,
    Thinking of mice or a catnip bathmat.
    Why did it take a chest full of gold
    To bring me to where it is so worth the cold?
    And what if the Chase would never have been?
    What if I’d never heard of Forrest B. Fenn?
    I’d never have seen a pueblo or cave,
    And certainly could never have called myself brave.
    I’d be missing the joy I find on the blog,
    And laying around like a bump on a log.
    So why is it that I’m onto his game?
    Is it for wealth and money and fame?
    It was, once upon a time,
    But now it’s evolved into something sublime.
    Of course I still want to be the one,
    But only because I could extend all the fun!
    I feel I belong to a community spirit,
    If you listen closely, you too can hear it.
    Look at all the good things we have done,
    Because the Pied Piper showed us the Sun.
    In the end the chest of gold will be found,
    But its the Thrill of the Chase that I find so profound.
    Thank you to all that share in the search,
    The lessons I’ve learned hold the real worth.

    Michael D


    Six hundred eighty four miles from door to desert.
    Eleven hours from streaming sweat and legs hurt.
    Could it all be just a coincidence?
    Did Forrest Fenn trick me with words and tense?
    Or am I really as close as I think and feel
    while searching for blazes and Browns to reveal.
    I’ve been in there twice and left without gold,
    Third times the charm, or so I’ve been told.
    Confidence boils over, imagination runs wild,
    Clues and hints abound through the eyes of a child.
    If this isn’t the place, I should hide a new chest,
    Because the solve that I have fits the poem the best.
    Others will come, it’s a matter of time,
    When they find what I found in Forrest Fenn’s rhyme.
    Perhaps it is true they’ve already been there,
    As many have passed on their way to somewhere.
    Special to Forrest Fenn? I believe so,
    But you might laugh if you knew where I go.
    It is okay, because I laugh at you too,
    When I hear your ideas and where you’ve been to.
    One thing I think that I’m sure that I know,
    Is the poem tells you where you should go.
    It doesn’t make you guess or divine,
    it draws you a picture like a map with a line.
    Of course this is all just IMO
    I really have no idea where to go.
    Michael D

    Too Far to Walk

    As I came upon some Mysterious Writings
    By a Scrapbooker from Old Santa Fe,
    My and Others’ Adventurous callings
    Were but a Gypsy’s Kiss away.

    The Thrill of The Chase Chat was my only thought
    As I Waded Up a Cold Creek Without a Paddle.
    I had Gone Fishing on a Mountain Walk
    On sock and shoe rather than horse and saddle!

    My Sainted mother once taught me a lesson
    during a serious talk,
    But I never grasped her suggestion
    to turn around if its Too Far to Walk.
    Michael D

    Owed to Forrest Fenn (Also known as the Turquoise Bracelet)

    The collector of string knows what its worth
    To seek a path to your hearts’ desire.
    He probably reads Dal’s blog with mirth
    Sitting by the warmth of his juniper fire.

    One holds the secret that is key,
    The rest will follow all aglow.
    But me, myself and I make three,
    We all attend his puppet show.

    Once in a while he pulls and tilts
    And movements happen at the other end.
    The master of puppets’ story is gilt
    Of bronze, of gold, of Forrest Fenn.

    He hears and listens and sometimes chimes in,
    As he watches his passion play unfold.
    Knowing all the while only one will win,
    Though all in the Chase will find some gold.
    The clueless ones that have not seen
    Presume that matching place to poem
    Will bring out what warm waters mean
    And the other clues will then be known.

    Others know what must be there,
    But have not yet imagined why,
    Or parts have shown their secret where,
    While other parts have slipped on by.

    A few have made it past the blaze,
    But fewer yet will recognize
    How very little knowlege weighs,
    Sometimes you can believe your eyes.

    While it is true no chaser knows
    Until the chest is in his lap,
    I know of two that believe it shows
    The poem is a treasure map.

    It takes you in, and there you are,
    So why is it you cannot hear?
    I know from hear to there is far,
    But from there to hear, far is near.

    Once I lost my wedding band
    But knew exactly where it fell.
    For eleven years I sifted sand,
    Finding only rock, and wood, and shell.

    Two years later, my son, thirteen
    Came running in from the beach,
    Grinning, he handed me my ring
    What lessons can this story teach?

    Just because you know the answers
    Does not mean that they are right
    But it does improve your chances
    If the amount you’re off is only slight.

    Everybodys’ solves are great,
    And everybodys’ solves are bold,
    But only one solve carrys the weight
    Of 42 two pounds of yellow gold.
    Michael D

    Legend of the Pink Tutu Treasure

    I went to Sleep upon solid rock,
    Which is why I went nigh
    Toward my solid sand.
    There is no milk in the Basin sought,
    But when cups runneth over it’s where warm waters land.
    Me, Myself and I are One,
    All together there makes three.
    Solving it is half the fun,
    Compared to his, mine’s easy.
    If you go too far, feel the glow of a Blaze;
    Half a life gone yet a half-life remains.
    At the start of eleven miles of water runway,
    Turn around and go back the way you came.
    Go nigh up the creek without a name
    Until you come across the giant boulders.
    You’re now getting closer to the end game,
    But you must get by them as I did, go over.
    When you reach the end there’s no need to climb,
    Go behind Imagination Falls you see.
    And take a seat to cross the line,
    Now you’re where my treasure be.
    Michael D


    When I listed ten only nine were there.
    The sixth contains the secret where.
    But number five holds the key,
    In plain English for all to see.

    The first is proof of what you find
    In the fifth one, which I left behind.
    Together, one, five, and six
    let you know where it exists.

    The blaze is him; I, my, and me,
    And all are One, that is the key.
    list ten ones, and one remains
    Two eyes in six but only one obstains.

    The rest you hear spells it out,
    And that’s what two through four’s about.
    Four first tells of One content wrote
    above it on the rhyming note.

    But four speaks of him the second time through,
    when beginning it where he tells you to.
    So now you have my solve to see
    Just not quite, but almost free.

    I took waters high to mean it was β€œtime to go, pink.”
    Until He said spring was a time to relax and think.
    Now maybe winter is the time to be bold,
    Since no other time is so worth the cold.
    A structure has pieces, and parts go together,
    A hole is a void, and is still in the weather.
    So how would one find a hole under snow?
    Perhaps warm waters melt it from down below.
    This would a patch of Brown earth expose,
    Underneath a blaze of white, when it snows.
    Perhaps only then can we find the right wood,
    Or know that our too far to walk is too good.
    How high is the water? That we must know…
    And up which creek do we not row?
    Is the right spot marked with a sign or a glyph?
    Must we look quickly down from the edge of a cliff?
    More work must be done, this solve is a chore!
    But I believe it involves some Uranium ore…
    And Forrest B. Fenn is in there someplace,
    Six has been solved or there’s egg on my face!
    But how many clues do reside there?
    Is that all I need to find out my where?
    No, there must be more to it than that…
    I give up Forrest, where’s the treasure chest at?

    Michael D

    • I agree, Amy. Michael, you are absolutely incredible. When did you find the time to write all those awesome poems? I’m amazed. Keep up the good work. I’m sure you make Forrest proud that he started all of this and we get to participate. Well done.

  9. Wow some great poems here I haven’t even had time to get throught them all yet. InTheChaseTo yours really hit home with me. Little by little – Inch by Inch. I start my 7 week outqage tomorrow and will be working 6 days a weeks 12 hours a day. Luckily I got day shift and not night shift. I have been kind of dreading the next few weeks but if I take them inch by inch and day by day maybe I will make it through. I will try to come up for air and get on blog occasionally. Don’t want to be left out if somebody finds the treasure. Happy Spring everybody! Get out there and search!

  10. All these poems tonight are excellent! I just escaped from Gringott’s in Diagon Alley…awesome special effects!

  11. I leave for a day
    And what do I see?
    Upon my return,
    A bushel of poetry!
    This page is so fun
    Filled with thoughts of the chase
    And nΓ©w friends, more than one
    All here at Dal’s place.
    We’re a tight little crew
    Of diggers and such
    Thanks – you know who
    You’ve given us so so much!

  12. I’m afraid to talk
    So from me, myself, nor I,
    You shall hear no balk.
    What is it I would say
    I believe I shall leave
    For yet another day.

  13. There is a man I so admire,
    His name is forest fire.

    This lovely gentleman,
    He is my biggest fan.

    He taught me all about trust,
    So I don’t need to rush.

    And when I go to dust,
    I’ll seek my friend,that’s a must.

    Indeed that’s a fact,
    For he’s made a pact.

    Soft and pillowed in,
    I’ll see him again in the end.

  14. When I first heard of forrest fenn
    And the words of his poem
    I knew there and then
    I was ready to roam.
    I heard the words “put in”
    My husband got my goat
    He said to me with a grin
    That’s the term of a boat
    That was it, I was sold
    It was a twist of fate
    Going from rocks to gold
    I just couldn’t wait!
    I read the poem over and again
    Got the books, joined the blogs
    Something I never tried before then
    But all the talk was frogs.
    I was so new in the chase
    So eager to learn
    To stare fear in the face
    To make my legs burn!
    I’ve given my best
    And I think I’ve done well,
    But just like the rest
    Ground boots do tell.
    It’s been such a special time
    Such a lucky treat
    To try and decipher the rhyme
    And hope to avert defeat.
    But in this “Thrill of the Chase”
    Everyone will win
    We’ve new memories in place
    And one heck of a grin!

  15. Spring ‘wakens’ our senses
    …Our journey’s foretold
    Soon mountains will whisper
    …It’s time, now be bold

  16. The Brown Cycle

    There was a young lad in Montana
    Who had traveled from Louisiana,
    “There’s a home on this range
    Where the Brown clues aren’t strange!”
    But the gold was just in his bandana.

    A cowgirl from wooly Wyoming
    Rode mustangs and sang songs of roaming.
    But she kept both her eyes on
    The clues of Brown bison
    And dreamed of the gold that was coming.

    A prospector claimed Colorado
    Was the aim of his gold passionado.
    “I will search till I croak,
    In each crevice I’ll poke
    In the Home of the Brown El Dorado!”

    Said a searcher from Mexico Nuevo
    As he dined on some chiles con huevo,
    “The clues of Marron
    Keep leading me on,
    And I think there’s some oro en cuevo!”

    • Aahhh,,, ya got me,,,, πŸ™‚ I am humbled,,,

      Great, fun, fantastical limmericks!!!!

    • Very good Larsonist!
      Vanna, can I “borrow” the “L”, I’ve found a blaze! πŸ™‚

      • Jdiggins,
        Here’s your LLLLLLLL’s from me,
        V-anna. As I turn the poem letters please remind me to smell the “fight cancer Daffodils”
        on the buttery yellow scant (slope) which are the same butter yellow color of uranium butter.[refer to F’s statement at Mysterious Writing] paraphrased…I wish someone would ask what color is a daffodil? Why would that be important to Forrest? Because his cancer was related to uranium exposure and he cultivates/participates in daffodil days each spring to help fight cancer.

        !!!Hey MichaelD and German – with all the discussion about using a woods light to illumine glowing rocks maybe your uranium solve has important elements of truth. Remember our discussion about “if ur W.I.S.E.” It’s one opinion of answering “DO NOT TOUCH” in red and “on penalty of death” in TTOTC. Could be relevant IMO. Maybe f hopes to make a public statement about arms race(ur) and war; his clarion call to be at peace and protect people.

        • What would a wise person not touch under threat of death? What untouchable thing might warn someone away with large red letters? πŸ™‚

        • In other words, a person absolutely must know the exact location to be wise enough and brave enough to touch something you should not ever touch.

        • I was just pulling your leg with later. The real word is layer. The poem has layers πŸ™‚

  17. Being as a hermit,
    In solitude you see,
    I traveled down the river,
    And wondered where that treasure could be.
    In his mind, things are locked,
    Only to be opened by some poem and an ole chase book.
    The water is cold down here, but I crossed at the ford,
    Way below that color, Oh my lord.

    A little farther down is a tiny little town,
    There wasn’t much else around.
    So, here I go, I went in,
    No boat ride, just a walking stick, my friend.
    As I walked up this trail, my mind was running fast,
    I was back in school, in Spanish class.

    No turning back now by what I see,
    Him in the middle, it is all three.
    I’m coming to the end, it’s here I know,
    It all fits, hurry I’ve got to go.
    I forgot to say, I found that blaze,
    It stood out, like the gold rush craze.
    Help me ff, am I in the right place?
    I can’t find it, in all this space.
    All this stuff is in my mind,
    I hope I can get to this place sometime.

  18. They Call Me Bruce

    The measure of a man is the life that he led
    And the lives that he touched along the way.
    It was standing room only when his eulogy read
    Not a dry eye in the house at the funeral today.

    A mountain man trapper, a fisherman king,
    a sportsman, a friend, and a man of his word.
    A father and husband, he’d play guitar and sing,
    And a thought of himself never occurred.

    I can only hope and pray
    I have touched so many as him,
    And I know that come what may,
    My memory of him will never dim.

    Goodbye my friend, I will see you over the next ridge…

  19. The Tree

    In a forest high in the valley,
    near the water and in a grove,
    did a sapling begin to grow.

    And with the seasons it did show,
    Colors of spring, summer, and fall, Winter white with snow.

    Through the years it did grow,
    Tall with leaf, branch, and bark,
    deep did its roots go.

    In its branches did the birds nest,
    A place to raise their young,
    To roost and find rest.

    Then one day a man came,
    He admired the great tree
    And made this plea.

    Great tree so big and tall.
    I have need of you,
    For my wife and son so small.

    From you I will make,
    A house and home,
    A place to call my own.

    With much anguish,
    The tree stood deep in root,
    Long it has lived next to the brook.

    The tree replied thus so,
    What’s in it for me?
    I still have much to live.

    I give to you said the man,
    All that I have, all that I am,
    I give you my love, for this land.

    So did the wood accept
    And with pride ever so tall,
    Did the great tree fall.

    • It is a story of love and sacrifice. Yes a sad story, the tree great and beautiful, giving its life for another. Could the man have used another material? Yes, but pioneers mostly used timber for just about everything. The point that may have been missed, the tree gave himself to the man to help him AND to save a fellow tree.

      No worries, I understand it was a sad story, but it was just a story.

      DISCLAIMER: No animals, trees, rocks, flowers, or erasers where harmed in the writing of The Tree. πŸ™‚

    • The big tree continued to live, it’s all how you look at it, the big circle. It’s strong boards now protect a family. Laughter bounces off its wall, the family is happy and secure. A sacrifice was made, in return for the well being of the family.
      The spirit of the tree smiles.
      It’s the big circle.

      • πŸ˜‰ Donna
        A reverence for wood walks well with a grateful heart for the numerous ways wood has provided man with shelter and tools. A critically maintained balance as man respects creation by using wisely natural resources.

  20. Why is it sad? Teat tree willingly gave itself to the man in exchange for his everlasting love of he great trees home, the land. It tells us of man’s connection to the earth and her natural resources….lest we forget who we really are, and how we exist. it is w wonderful and perfectly spoken poem.

  21. πŸ™‚ great explanation
    It’s happy, it’s sad
    I promise I’m not Bipolar πŸ™‚

  22. A mirror when a candle in the next room moves,
    a treasure in the forest!
    Good luck, I cried,
    and I saw a river of dreams rise to heaven.
    Delivered to the end, growing and flowering.
    I love the deserts faded bouquets.
    Make the city eat its own dust.

  23. Shade

    I’ve seen the tree in which you speak , just this passing fall ,

    Standing so majestic , and proud to be so tall.

    The man who came with ax in hand , looked at the tree and smiled,

    I will build my home of brick , to shelter my wife and child.

    Lowered his ax and turned away, to leave this beautiful place ,

    With a look of pleasure , bestowed upon his face.

    The decision to let the tree stand tall , for everyone to see,

    Thank you man with ax , especially from me.

    The next time your out hiking , and you pass a lone tall tree,

    Take the time to admire its limbs , standing so beautifully .

    Even though its just in passing , a moment of your time,

    The tree will be forever blessed , to know you are so kind.

    The tree will stand up taller , than it ever has before ,

    knowing that someone’s admiring him , down at the forest floor.

    You will not be sorry , for this little spec of time,

    To let the tall tree show its grace, and let its beauty shine.

    Thank you man who took your ax , and went on quietly home,

    I see you wife and children , really like their house of stone.

    I know your happy to , with the choices you have made,

    While you and family enjoy , your picnic in its shade.

    By Focused

  24. There once was a man from Isle Lummi,
    Whose resume proved him no dummy.
    Post fifty-odd searches
    Through pine trees and birches:
    Now learning Canasta and Rummy.


  25. The Man Who Thinks He Can

    by Walter D. Wintle

    If you think you are beaten, you are;
    If you think you dare not, you don’t.
    If you’d like to win, but think you can’t
    It’s almost a cinch you won’t.
    If you think you’ll lose, you’ve lost,
    For out in the world we find
    Success being with a fellow’s will;
    It’s all in the state of mind.

    If you think you’re outclassed, you are:
    You’ve got to think high to rise.
    You’ve got to be sure of yourself before
    You can ever win a prize.
    Life’s battles don’t always go
    To the stronger or faster man,
    But soon or late the man who wins
    Is the one who thinks he can.

    • Focused, bajauu, Michael D. and indy,
      Sully, spallies and dear cindy,
      I love the words that flow
      From your fingertips.
      Such talent, such grace and show,
      Sometimes just funny quips.
      But nonetheless entertaining
      And equally profound
      I’m glad you’re not abstaining
      Your words from making sound.
      Keep your minds aglow,
      And your hearts afire…

      Oh and put on your running shoes,
      It’s down to the wire! πŸ™‚
      Thanks guys, you are awesome! πŸ™‚

  26. All this “Tree” talk made me get out a book that was given to me years ago.
    “The Giving Tree” by Shel Silverstein.
    I’m sure many of you have already read it. It’s a children’s book. Interpretations vary. If you have read it, how did you interpret it?

  27. To make up for my blog blunder today:

    On a very cold night not long ago
    Knee deep in Montana snowβ€”
    In the middle of a glade,
    in the midst of a wood,
    I paused, took a moment–
    to look up where I stood.

    There are moments in life that define who we are,
    In those next seconds I sensed my soul in the stars–
    Nothing else mattered
    but those pinpoints of lightβ€”
    The silence, the darkness,
    the quiet feeling of…right.

    I cannot say with entire certainty,
    That in the constellations, I saw eternity–
    But time was lost–
    and still, somehow, found–
    I wandered among the stars…
    with my feet upon the ground.

    A second can change the course of a life,
    Like the jagged slash of a wicked-sharp knife.
    Fortune is finicky,
    jumping ship in a storm–
    Or flashing her smile
    when the waters are warm.

    As I stood in the glade, in the middle of the wood,
    A thing I had missed, I finally understood–
    In that jot of time,
    a gentle whisper was sent–
    I may never be rich,
    but I will be…content.

  28. So hear me all and list ten good
    Your F fort will B worth the cold.
    F U R brAve and N the wood,
    I give U title to the gold.
    There’s nine right there for all to see
    But ten is missing I’m one M weak.
    Now I’m weak is the M for me,
    And from there it’s no place for the meek.
    FBF is Forrest Burke Fenn,
    And Southern Wyoming calls me back.
    You’ve heard it before but listen again,
    It’s straight forward and I’m on the right track.
    As I have gone alone in WyomIng,
    And with my treasures bold,
    I can keep my secret going,
    And I is one and nine I’m told.
    This cannot be coincidence,
    There’s something to it I believe.
    It’s hidden in the words and tense,
    And difficult to perceive.

  29. Dancing with the stars that’s Who

    Around and round we all must go
    Love to find Who you know

    There’ll be just two will last forever
    Amongst the cloud so bold so cleaver

    They dance at night and shine so bright
    Two birds in flight the stars at night

    All eyes make three, just one a mister
    It takes a Forrest to kiss a whisper

  30. From Father to Son

    Oh my son do not shed a tear,
    In the dark do not fear,
    Do not feel lost and alone,
    I am here, do not groan.

    I will hold you tight,
    Together we will see the light,
    My love for you is true,
    And I will see you thru.

    Your are my pride and joy,
    You are such a big boy.
    I have watched you grow up,
    And It’s hard, but your tuff.

    I know you can do it all,
    Don’t give up when you fall,
    And it will be a great tale,
    Of how, you did not fail.

    One day I must leave,
    But you must believe,
    I am always with you,
    And I am a part of you.

    After awhile someday,
    When you are old and gray,
    Then we shall together be,
    And stories you will have for me.

    Patiently I will wait,
    With rod, reel, and bait.
    For when you come thru that door,
    We shall talk and fish forevermore.

  31. Sometimes it’s hard to not feel defeated
    Like when you ace the exam
    And they think that you cheated.

    Sometimes it’s hard to keep up your spirit
    Like when you see the other side
    But you just can’t get near it.

    Sometimes it’s hard to just walk away
    Like when you give it your all
    But it don’t go your way

    That’s when I have to reach deep inside
    Take a step back
    And swallow my pride

    When I am feeling not so strong
    I must take time to remember
    How well I do get along.

  32. From Son to Father

    Father I say , I’m not afraid,
    I fear not the shadows that lurk in the shade.
    For I am brave , and know you are here,
    Because of this , I will not fear.

    Father you’ve taught me all sorts of things,
    I’ve listened to you , the joy that it brings.
    Knowing someday , the angels will come,
    And take you from me , on your journey home.

    When that time comes and you must leave,
    I will carry your words with me on my sleeve.
    And cherish them always , as if you were here,
    I’ll try my best to hold back the tears.

    Father you’ve made me, the man that I am,
    A reflection of you , a very strong man.
    Until the day , the angels arrive,
    Let’s just have fun ………

    While we’re feeling ” ALIVE “.

    By Focused

  33. Here’s a take-off from the Eagles:

    Well I’ve been runnin down the road
    Goin after fenn’s gold
    I got the nine clues on my mind
    Six I know will show me
    Two that wanna stow me
    One that will make it mine
    And it ain’t easy
    It ain’t easy
    Don’t let the sound of your own wheels make you crazy
    It ain’t easy
    It ain’t easy
    I gotta know if this last clue
    Is gonna say a Ave me
    Ooh ooh ooh
    Ooh ooh ooh….

    • You and me both, JD! I think we’re all in the same boat. By any chance…do you have a paddle I can borrow? πŸ™‚ I’ve been meaning to get one.

      • Those things will just get you in trouble, JD. πŸ™‚

        I do need some paddles in the truck by Monday morning, though. I hope I don’t need them…but I’ll bring some along just in case…and a shovel…and a detector…and a sandwich…and a flashlight…and some pepper spray…and a six pack. My hope is to drive all the way back home…with wood. πŸ™‚

  34. Be it by land
    Or by sea
    I shall command
    A victory
    Not now
    Not yet
    But soon
    I’ll bet!

    • @puttputt

      Forget putting.
      Drive it tired
      With a wood.
      Keep the gold
      As you could.
      A victory looms
      By the light
      Of the moon.
      A hole in one
      For an old son.

  35. Let it Go

    Let it go for it is holding you down,
    Keeping you from moving like a leaden crown.

    You have a chance to get it right,
    Don’t squander this gift, don’t put up a fight.

    Time may be forever ticking by,
    But this moment is brief and soon shall die.

    The end.

      • Wiseone, lots of stuff can be let go to lighten our load. Our preoccupation with the past when it blinds us from seeing the beauty of the moment; regrets; repetitive thoughts and other “noise” in our heads; polluting the peace available to us now with our constant desire for more things or future wants–that kind of stuff. Or it could just be those extra pounds I’m still trying to unload from the holidays. Thanks for asking–anything you want to “let go”?

        • Thanks for the reply. I was just curious as to your thoughts behind your words…Thats all. πŸ™‚
          I’m sure everyone has things they need to let go of at some point in their lives. Whatever it may be.
          Good luck in losing those extra holiday pounds. πŸ™‚

    • You’re referencing Disney’s “Frozen” about finding her identity… I get that. But for some reason I don’t think that is what Raven is talking about. IMO

        • The beauty of the moment is here and now. The peace of the Rockies high in the mountains over looking snow covered peaks and frozen lakes. The wind blowing in my face the only sound besides the occasional ring of a prospectors pick. Solitude is a beautiful moment, even better when shared with friends. The beauty of life, you don’t want this day to end and you can’t wait for tonight to get here.

          • In a world riddled with darkness and rage,
            Your words, bajaau, bring light to this page!
            Ah yes to stand up there
            Feel the breeze
            And smell the air..
            It’s a moment of pure delight
            And a place I dream of at night!
            Each precious moment
            And second between,
            I pray I will forever
            Their memories gleen.

  36. Found a little gem in the attic this weekend… Not a poem but thought I would share.

    In the forth grade my daughters teacher gave the students a piece of paper with the following statement… Now that I am in charge of the world, I think I’ll…. The rest of the page was blank lines for them to fill in. It was titled Wishful Thinking…

    and what follows is what my daughter wrote… I left in her spelling errors because they make me smile πŸ™‚

    Now that I am in charge of the world, I think I’ll….
    go and sit at a low muffled soft wisper of a shining brook, with riples that dance on the waves. Nothing to wory about as all my trobles drift away down the brook in the soft current. As the butter flys grasfuly fly away to a magical place full of love and music. A place were you can be free to do any thing you wish. There are unicorns dancing in the soft peaceful breeze. Ferrys floating in the sky like a mystical creacher and they are so beautiful. it’s hard to imagine such a thing. And to this vary day I still sit at that vary brook and listin to it sing with love and compasion. and I let my soul run free to the magical place.

      • That’s so incredible to me that a nine year old could think that splendidly…I think I’d like to go there too…

    • ……from the mouths of babes

      Perhaps that is why Forrest says, “imagination is more important than knowledge”?
      It’s sad, that as adults, we cannot allow our minds to roam freely to such places and see magical things…..(and NOT because of the Chase!)

      Thanks for sharing, spallies, and for leaving the spelling…. it wuz perfek!!

  37. The gentle spring breeze made the hairs on my arm stand up and the goosebumps rose.

    The heat of the sand massages my feet as the grains shift between my

    I gaze in marvel at the soaring eagle and the sun so bright my eyes almost

    The blaze white of the waterfall cascading down the canyon mists me wet and my confidence grows.

    The smell of sagebrush, pine needles, and pinyon nuts as I see snowcapped mountains, fills my nose.

    Indulgence lies in wait around every corner of the winding path that I thoughtfully chose.

    Beauty abounds in this private and special place that I’m sure nobody else

    Then I step on an empty Dr. Pepper can and cut my bare foot; dammit that really blows.

  38. My thanks to whomever recommended ‘Essay on Man’ by Alexander Pope (1891). Perhaps the most excellent moral essay (in verse) I’ve read. I extracted pieces of Pope’s wisdom and tried relating them to stories in Forrest’s memoirs.

    1. Nature’s laws from the rending earth and bursting skies teach the weak to bend and the proud to pray. -Forrest and Donnie’s great adventure

    2. Self-love in all people becomes the cause of what restrains people, government, and laws. What serves only one causes many wills to rebel. For our safety must our liberty be restrained. All join to guard what each desires to gain.
    – My war for me; leave others alone; respect all people; live in peace

    3. Man, like the generous vine, supported lives; The strenght he gains is from the embrace he gives. On their own axis the planets run, Yet make at one their circle round the sun; so two consistent motions act the soul; And one regards itself, and one the whole.

    – “If I cannot enrich those with whom I interact each day and cause them to be better for having passed their view, then I have wasted my turn.” FF

  39. ” TIME ”

    Each day is a gift, a blessing blessed with time,

    Make the best of each short day, and let your happiness shine,

    We never know from day to day if this one is our last,

    Slow down and smell the roses , try not to live so fast.

    Seems we want to live so fast, in everything we do,

    Take the time to stop and cherish, the things surrounding you.

    In the big ole city , or near a babbling brook,

    It doesn’t matter where you live, just take the time to look.

    You just might be amazed with everything you see,

    Dew drops on the roses , a beautiful lone tall tree.

    This world is full of pleasures , if you only take the time,

    To slow your pace to look at them, and let their beauty shine.

    Take the time to smile at others , and let your happiness grow,

    Always be genuine, and never put on a show,

    Enjoy the small things in your life , with each passing minute,

    Cause someday time will continue on, only without you in it.

    By Focused

      • Thanks Ed, Glad you liked it…… Live slow…… good luck to ya…… πŸ™‚

      • Glad to see you liked it jdiggins…… Remember it’s all the small things in life that matters….. you keep up the good work too ! good luck in the chase… see ya

        • Indeed, wanting what you have gives more pleasure than having what you want!
          In my family, we try not to use the words want or need in reference to ourselves. Our daughter grew up learning how to say, ” I would like,” instead. πŸ™‚

  40. Focussed – thanks for a beautiful reminder to enjoy each moment!
    Life moves so fast in a city. I miss hiking in the the mountains and meadows so much.

    • your welcome anna , like I said there is also little things to enjoy in the city… just gotta look….. I miss the mountains too…. good luck to ya . . glad you liked my words….. πŸ™‚

  41. As I have gone alone in there
    Many times before
    I’ll give myself another chance
    I only need one more!

    • A civil war soldier softly spoke, as he climbed upon his mount,

      ” I won’t need another chance, I’ll make this one count.”

      just messing around with ya jdiggins, I liked it… πŸ™‚


  42. Dal’s pottery page is one of the best
    Inspiring and educational
    It’s mimbres outshine the rest
    While waiting for vacational.

    Oh my, you say that’s POETRY page.
    How could I be so blind?
    Well, as Emily Litella would say,
    Ohhhh, NEVERMIND!!!

    Happy April Fool’s Day You All πŸ™‚

  43. I hear you whispering all around,
    for me it’s all from frozen ground.
    And so this cold I feel inside,
    weighs more than gold till Easter’s tide.
    When my spring does come and I rebound,
    catch me running just like the hound
    So hear me all and listen well,
    I cannot speak or show my tell.
    In moderation I sit so still,
    So from my heart I share this thrill.

  44. ALL IMO!!

    By Michael D

    I’ve been trying to crack Fenn’s poem and I cannot cease,
    It’s like a giant puzzle and I just found a piece.
    But when you know what you seek it’s still hard to find,
    With one missed day or direction you may as well be blind.

    Interpretation is the key to finding Forrest’s spot,
    The blaze is white and the Brown is old but Brown it is not.
    It’s all in his poem and the book confirms the hunch,
    But it will not help you find the x so you better pack a lunch.

    Its scary to find some answers and I know more are there,
    After four more years of searching I may be a millionaire!
    There’s plenty more work to do before I can search,
    But I see the Forrest through the trees and I know what that’s worth.

    Its so simple in design, yet so hard to make,
    So many paths exist I don’t know which to take.
    I still have my pink tutu just in case I am wrong,
    But if this ain’t it I might just have to show up in a thong!

    • Michael D

      I have a hunch
      I’d lose my lunch,
      If your tutu’s gone
      And you don a thong!

    • That’s a great poem, Michael D. Your “thong” comment reminded me a great song by The Carpenters that I like to “thing”…with a lithp…when I’m feeling down. Perhaps you’ll recognize it. πŸ™‚

      (Sing it kinda like you’d imagine Rudy Giuliani would sing it.)

      Laugh or cry, man. Laugh or cry.


      Thing, thing a thong
      Thing out loud
      Thing out thtrong
      Thing of good thingth not bad
      Thing of happy not thad.

      Thing, thing a thong
      Make it thimple to latht
      Your whole life long
      Don’t worry that it’th not
      Good enough for anyone
      Elth to hear
      Jutht thing, thing a thong.

      Thing, thing a thong
      Let the world thing along
      Thing of love there could be
      Thing for you and for me.

      Thing, thing a thong
      Make it thimple to latht
      Your whole life long
      Don’t worry that it’th not
      Good enough for anyone
      Elth to hear
      Jutht thing, thing a thong.

      I hope you liked that. It brings a tear to my eye whenever I “thing” it. Great thongs help me weather the thtormth of life.

      I now raze a toatht! (glath held high) …TO THE THONG!


  45. ” Courage ”

    Tis not the bright of the midnight sun ,

    Dark of a moonless night has come.

    Fear not what lurks within the night,

    Shadows will fade far from your sight.

    Strength arises from inner Self,

    Courage that rest on a dusty shelf,

    Of one’s inner soul shall trust,

    Remove the courage , blow off the dust.

    Dark evils that lie within the night,

    Will step aside , your path will light,

    meek no more , subsides in you,

    Brave the darkness , you travel through.

    Tis morning rays ,upon your trail ,

    Courage , strength and faith prevail,

    Step aside , dark world down under,

    Courage rings , pure sounds of thunder.

    Fear not my friend, believe in yourself,

    Find your courage , dust off your shelf…………

    By Focused

      • Thanks nearindianajones , I’m just trying to stay caught up with some on the poetry page…. your ” The Tree” was awesome…. To much talent for me….lol glad you liked it though…… πŸ™‚ good luck in the chase…

      • Thank you Wilson , ” Courage ” … not all have it. but it is there in everyone , they just need to look inside themselves to find it…. thanks again…

    • Thanks Amy……. I see your still smiling… πŸ™‚ glad you liked it… good luck to ya….

  46. ” The Journey ”

    If a rainbow ends with a pot of gold,

    You would chase it til you are old.

    Should you ever find the pot,

    Ever no more, your journey forgot.

    Think of others , while riches you found,

    Of those less fortunate , scattered abound.

    Me I would help, some people in need,

    A family who struggles, just needing a seed.

    Thousand of wishes, I’d try to fulfill ,

    Years of struggle , climbing uphill.

    From me I would help them, that is my choice,

    Now when I speak , they will hear my voice.

    Ring out louder than ever before,

    My voice will echo from shore to shore.

    Bell it sits up high in a steeple,

    So loudly it rings , while I help out some people.

    I know the rainbow , for its colors so bold,

    Will benefit many , with its pot of gold.

    Know the treasure lies within, end of the rainbow , the journey begins…………

    By Focused

    • NOTICE… read down the first word in every sentence It reads….. ” If you should ever think of me a thousand years from now , ring my bell so I will know ” …. just goofing around a little… good luck to all….


        • Thank you CindyM , This is a good time of year to be inspirational , I know years ago many were inspired when the stone was rolled aside…….Happy Easter to you and your family CindyM……..glad you liked my words….. good luck to ya.

    • Focused, Yet another excellent poem!
      Treasures within, rainbows end, journey begins… πŸ™‚

    • Focused , I really enjoyed your poem. I also liked how you included a saying from Forrest using the first words of each line. excellent………

  47. Wow! The talent here is amazing! You guys really are awesome!
    Michael d…imagination!
    Bajaau and focused, speechless!
    Jc1117, ROFL!!!

    • Thanks jdiggins, the way I see it , your in that list too ! You have written some great ones….. that has challenged me to get better.
      I’m not a poet by any means , just having fun ! Isn’t that what the Chase is all about….. Keep up the good work jdiggins …… till next time….. Happy Easter to you and your family…. πŸ™‚

    • Happy Easter, Everyone. He is Risen.

      Luke 24:5-6

      “Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen.”

      He is The Master of ocean, and earth, and skies.

      “The winds and the waves shall obey Thy will,
      Peace, be still!
      Whether the wrath of the storm tossed sea,
      Or demons or men, or whatever it be
      No waters can swallow the ship where lies
      The Master of ocean, and earth, and skies;
      They all shall sweetly obey Thy will,
      Peace, be still! Peace, be still!
      They all shall sweetly obey Thy will,
      Peace, peace, be still!”



      • What a beautiful song JC1117

        Christ has risen, the tomb is empty, forgiveness and eternal life are a reality for those who believe. Glory to Christ Jesus, oh Blessed Redeemer.

  48. Jc, thanks, now thing a thong is stuck in my head and I’ll be singing it all day..prolly l all week! πŸ˜‰

    • Thanks Amy , I think that is the first time anyone has told me that….lol I’m the ( If you ask my opinion, your gonna get it ) type of person… I don’t try to polish my word, I just try to polish those who listen to my words….. Everyone has the ability to shine, some just need a little buffing….lol Now , as far as you Amy, you don’t have to say a word…. your SMILES say it all.. πŸ™‚ Happy Easter to you and your family Amy….. God Bless

      • Focus

        Thank u, we would all like to shine everyday, and we all need buffing at times. I do listen to the words that’s for sure, and your words are beyond πŸ™‚

        Happy Easter and blessings πŸ™‚

    By Michael D

    The truth shines through like the bold colors of a rainbow as it arches
    through the sky.

    Vision cannot be blinded by who they think you are, it comes from
    your mind’s eye.

    Many of us choose to remain grounded, but some free their spirits and
    choose to fly.

    We all live our lives and have the same question, but most seek not to
    hear the reply.

    Chase dreams for they are fleeting, and it’s better to have chased than
    to have let lie.

    As long as you live it is never too late to try, don’t let the rest of your life
    pass you by.

    When I am gone, please remember my life was an adventure,
    there’s no need to cry.

    Life’s breath is short and sweet and we leave behind a part of ourselves
    when we die.

    Thank you for passing your lessons on Forrest, I hear you loud and clear!!

    • Very nice Michael D , I can tell by your words you speak from your heart….. excellent job…. πŸ™‚

  50. Mic-D, There are no words to express the thought-provocating emotion felt after reading that… Thank you. πŸ™‚

  51. For all you wonderful ladies.

    Her Diamond Ring

    On that day some time ago,
    And by the waters deep indigo.
    Together hand in hand,
    Sitting upon the crystal sand,
    The light shone first in my eye,
    And with sparkling tears of joy I cried.
    One and one became one,
    Bound by word, and broke by none.
    United together by ring of virtue,
    And a promise to never hurt you.
    By love, laughter, joy and a little pain,
    To our family little ones we did gain.
    Each day the light shines brighter,
    Fueled by love, joy, and laughter.
    During the times of gloom,
    When life has a feel of doom,
    I would look upon my left hand,
    A diamond, a star, set in a gold band,
    It’s radiance showing so bright,
    And I’m reminded I will be alright.
    From our love this star is made,
    And none others would I trade.
    My husband will always be with me,
    And through the distance he will see,
    The star that’ll show his way there,
    Where I will say, how’s my hair?
    Our love and life made the light,
    This diamond ring a star so bright.
    Together now and always together,
    Bound by love made bright forever.

  52. ” Thank You ”

    Thanks to you all soldiers, across this beautiful land ,

    Who fought for our country , and for your fellow man.

    Because of all your courage , and willing life to give,

    Millions now have freedom , in this land that we live.

    A soldier has a special heart , it beats red white and blue,

    Leaves his family alone at home, for the lives of me and you.

    A soldiers courage will not fade, when dangers drawing nigh,

    No matter what the outcome , a soldiers gonna try.

    It takes a very special breed, when duty calls their name,

    Not looking for the glamour , not wanting any fame.

    Many soldiers fought for freedom, many soldiers died,

    Many soldiers carried brothers, many families cried.

    I salute to you all soldiers , two fingers on my brow,

    For those who fought unselfishly, the wars of then and now.

    A challenge to all american’s , who live across our lands,

    Find a soldier, seek one out , and proudly shake their hand……….

    By Focused

    • Thanks Amy.. you speechless ? just kidding….. πŸ™‚ what we have came with a price. A lot of people now days take that for granted…. just a reminder to thank a vet or current soldier…. glad to leave you speechless….lol Happy Easter Amy

      • Thank you Focused, somehow I missed that gem of a poem. And thank you Hank for pointing it out.

        I am truly grateful for those who gave their lives to our country and to the families who love and miss them each day.

        • Thanks,cindym,Hank,and jdiggins glad you liked my words…good luck with the chase

  53. Focus

    Your amazing and you are right I will surely thank a soldier or vet. The ones who have not fought have no idea what they endure. Such Brave men. I can’t even imagine

    • yes they are brave… like my poem ” courage ” , everyone has courage within themselves…. if they reach in deep enough…. I think soldiers are overflowing with courage…. I think I get carried away sometimes with all this.. but hey as long as were having fun… right? your turn for a poem Amy… πŸ™‚

  54. When I first heard of forrest fenn
    Had no idea what I was in for
    Way back then
    But I took it
    And I ran
    And so
    My chase began
    I got the books
    And the map
    Used the table
    Too much for my lap
    Then began my quest
    With warm waters halting
    Home of Brown, and the rest
    I picked my spot
    Through piles of research
    And it stuck
    I found my perch
    I studied it over and again
    Couldn’t wait couldn’t wait
    Tarry scant now times ten
    And along the way
    I’ve learned a lot
    I’ve met new friends
    remembered what I forgot
    And even overcame some fear
    I’m happy to be here
    And now
    I’m lucky to live this
    And how
    Thank you forrest fenn
    I’ll sign off now
    Now back to the poem
    Until we meet again….

  55. ” A Note To Cancer ”

    You came into my body, not welcomed here at all ,

    I did not ask for you to come , for you I did not call.

    Since your here , you must be warned , God is on my side,

    There’s no place in my body, that you can run and hide.

    Let’s not waste a minute more , lets get this battle started ,

    For I have not a tender soul , nor am I tender hearted.

    I’m not fighting just for me , I’ll fight for many more,

    Who’s lives you slowly crept into, I’ll even up the score.

    Through the many harden months , with you I have fought,

    Not willing to give in to you, the victory that I sought.

    My strength , faith and love of life , grows stronger every day,

    Some day I’ll be rid of you , I bow my head and pray.

    I see your getting weaker now , my victories almost here,

    Just to know your evil’s gone, I know I’m gonna cheer.

    You have taken many lives, many that I know,

    Now it’s time for you to die , time for you to go.

    I just received the grandest news, my doctor he did say,

    That you have left my body, died and went away.

    I drop my head, close my eyes , “Thank you God” I say,

    For helping me with my battle , and with me all the way.

    Many now are fighting , with the evils that I tell,

    Fight with every ounce in you , and send ” CANCER ”

    Straight to Hell…………….

    By Focused

    I dedicate this to everyone fighting their battle…..
    Stay strong , keep faith….. God bless

    • Wonderful Focused. Your words not only inspire but encourage.

      To those who have fought or been touched in other ways by this dreaded disease, God bless us all.

    • Just wanted to say thanks to CindyM, 42, Amy, JC1117, nearindianajones, and you too Jdiggins for all the kind comments on my poem….. Glad you guys liked it πŸ™‚ good luck to all of you guys in the chase….

  56. Focused, As one who fights disease and cancer, I can appreciate your victorious, encouraging poem. They arrive as unwelcome guests and don’t know when to leave. But a heart full of faith in God, valor, and laughter have certainly strenghtened me for the battle. Terrific poem.

  57. Thank you 42 , I just want people to know cancer can be beaten… stay strong in your battle 42…… my thoughts and prayers are with you…. you will be victorious…. good luck in the chase……

  58. Focus

    WOW, WOW, WOW , I’m speechless once again. Your so smart and u really think. Amazing πŸ™‚

  59. Another great poem, Focused. Thank you for creating it. I know that God is pleased when we acknowledge His Hand in the good things that happen throughout life. Of course, He allows the bad things to happen so that we can learn from experience and become stronger…and MORE grateful for the good in our lives. Thanks, again…and again.


  60. Focused, you are absolutely amazing! πŸ™‚
    Absolutely wonderful words! πŸ™‚

  61. to the tune of The Righteous Brothers song Unchained Melody

    Whoa my search
    My headache
    I’ve hungered for your touch
    A long lonely time.

    And times goes by so slowly
    And time can do so much
    Are you still there?

    I need your gold
    I need your gold
    God speed the gold to me

    The warm waters flow to the sea, to the sea
    To the open arms of the sea
    The warm water sigh wait for me wait for me
    I’ll be searching more, wait for me

    Whoa my search
    My headache
    I’ve hungered for your touch

    And times goes by so slowly
    And time can do so much
    Are you still there?

    I need your gold
    I need your gold
    God speed the gold to me

  62. ” Patiently Waiting ”

    I’ve searched and searched, but what do I know ,

    Is” warm waters halt”, really cold waters flow ?

    And the home of brown , seems simple to me ,

    But why does the brown have a capital B?

    I’ve heard “This is No place for the meek”,

    Or brave you must leave, to hear what I speak

    You say that the “end is ever drawing nigh” ,

    Or just the beginning , within sight of my eyes?

    What do ya mean “No paddle up my creek” ?

    If i’m traveling down , for the treasures I seek.

    My heavy loads are getting lighter and lighter,

    I’m not giving up , cause I am a fighter.

    WHAT? If I’ve been “wise”……”ARE YOU JOKING” I shout ?

    Just when I thought , that I figured it out

    I’m not the sharpest , tool in the shed,

    My wisdom is micro, up there in my head.

    So i’ll patiently sit here , and wait for a winner,

    Maybe they’ll call me , and invite me to dinner………

    Ph: 555-123-4567

    By Focused

    • Awesome poem AGAIN, Focused! You’re a winner in my book even if I ain’t…and I ain’t the sharpest fool in the shed myself. You’re welcome to come to my house to dinner anytime. What’ll it be? Rice or beans or ramen? Take your pick. πŸ™‚

      • Lol Focused you are awesome… And you are always welcome at me casa too for dinner I just hope you like crow it’s all I know how to cook πŸ™‚

        • Thanks Spallies for the invitation to your casa πŸ™‚ crow ? I don’t know , but I’ll try anything once…If that’s all you know how to cook then it must be the best crow in the country….. practice makes perfect…. πŸ™‚ ……….. thanks Spallies for your kind words… good luck in the chase….. until next time…. see ya….

      • Thanks JC1117 , Glad you liked my words…. I was just goofing around…. I like all three…. πŸ™‚ good luck

    • Tribute To A Poet (or Dinner Guest)

      Being Focused is the greatest.
      Encouraging words abound.
      Writing poetry with the latest
      Info ‘Til I put my boots on the ground.

      Yes I agree that patience is a virtue
      Or so it’s been said many times.
      So, is warm water cold, and is BOLD a clue?
      Until my next search, I’ll just sit and pen rhymes.

      (more to come)

      Not as good as you but it’s the thought that counts.

      • CindyM , thanks alot for the tribute, I loved it…. πŸ™‚ keep up the good work when you pen rhymes….. good luck to you CindyM in the chase…..

    • I liked your poem very much Focused, well done πŸ™‚
      A good steak does sound like a tasty plan.

  63. Focus, lol very good

    Here’s my number 867 – 5309 πŸ™‚
    We all know this number πŸ™‚

    • πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚ your number ? do I need reservations for dinner ? lol just messing with ya Amy…. good luck to ya k πŸ™‚

    • thanks pl289 , sorry I should have used my inside voice….. shhhh………. good luck to ya pl289……….

  64. Blazing Amazing

    Focused has thought on words so careful…
    Threw them out there very dareful!
    The fingers clicked, the brain forewarn….
    Before ya know it—a poem is born!
    How it happens…just like that…
    Amazes me how smooth, down pat.
    I’ve known forever this my urchin,
    Since as a child on my knee a perching!
    Imagination seems to go with “smarts”…
    As the words flow forward to capture hearts!
    God has blessed us, my child and me…
    I will just sit back with my big cup of coffee!
    Now on me the decades ganging up…
    Gray hair and wrinkles if you look closeup!
    Said I to Focused “the poems just amaze!”
    Now Onward! Go forward! Find us the “blaze!”

    By Mom of Focused
    (FYI…my first and last post on this blog! I’m a “lurker” at heart!)

  65. Applause to you focused, as always a treat! Mom of focused, of course the skill came from somewhere! πŸ™‚
    And Cindym, keep on writing! πŸ™‚

  66. I posted this once before, but I think it should be posted again. So fitting for the chase, and a personal fav… πŸ™‚

    A dreamer
    A quitter
    He grieves
    And so, tells his tales of woe.
    But he who
    What his dreaming
    Has no limit to where he may go!

    Jdiggins…many moons ago… πŸ™‚

      • Very inspiring words, Jd. Just think. If you were a quitter you never would have written that, and now we all can be inspired by your words. Thanks.

        • Thank you Jc. One can only hope to inspire, the inspiree must take it from there! πŸ™‚

  67. With the nine clues I fumble,
    Til upon the key I stumble!
    I open the door…
    I rush in…
    I look all around…
    Oh where to begin!
    I go this way,
    I go that.
    I look here, there,
    And seemingly everywhere,
    Then it hits me like a bolt
    Out of nowhere…
    An idea, a thought, a notion…
    each time I go back to the potion..
    to calm the commotion…
    The poem, ahh, it soothes me
    Talks to me, guides me..
    And confuses me too!
    Silly me, just exactly who
    Do I think I am???
    Smarter than Forrest fenn??
    No way, no how,
    No can do!
    His secret is safe…
    With more than two.
    Until next time…

  68. I have a spot I call my own
    It gives me so much pleasure
    From there my imagination’s grown
    Tho I’ve seen no sign of the treasure

    I’ve hiked and climbed to no avail
    The scenery there soothes me
    My heart beats fast and I can tell
    The hint of the chest still moves me.

    I hope, I wish that I can go
    And search again sometime soon
    Or nuttier by the day I’ll grow
    Until I’m crazy as a loon.

  69. in response to someone saying that its about the

    Because you know I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that thrill, no prizes
    I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that thrill, no prizes
    I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that thrill, no prizes
    I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that thrill… thrill… thrill… thrill

    Yeah, it’s pretty clear, I ain’t no wise guy
    But I can hunt it, hunt it, like I’m supposed to do
    ‘Cause I got that map, map that all seeker buy

    And all the right ideas in all the right clues

    I see the news people workin’ that interview
    We know what interviewers will do, come on now, make it stop
    If you got a clue, a clue, just share ’em your clues
    ‘Cause every inch of you is tired from the bottom to the top

    Yeah, my mama she told me “don’t worry about your solve”
    (Shoo wop wop, sha-ooh wop wop)
    She says, “Seekers they like a little more booty to hold tight”
    (That booty, uh, that booty booty)
    You know I won’t be in the mud but in chase as it evolves

    So if that what you’re into, then go ahead hunt along

    Because you know I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that thrill, no prizes
    I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that thrill, no prizes
    I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that bass, no prizes
    I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that thrill… Hey!

    I’m bringing booty back
    Go ‘head and tell them all the seekers that

    No, I’m just playing, I know you think you’re lost
    But I’m here to tell you…

    Every inch of you is tired from the bottom to the top
    Every inch of each of the four states will searched and tossed

    Yeah my mama she told me, “don’t worry about your solve”
    (Shoo wop wop, sha-ooh wop wop)
    She says, “Seekers they like a little more booty to hold at night”
    (That booty booty, uh, that booty booty)
    You know I won’t be in the mud but in chase as it evolves
    So if that what you’re into, then go ahead hunt along

    Because you know I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that thrill, no treasure
    I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that thrill, no treasure
    I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that bass, no treasure
    I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that thrill

    Because you know I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that thrill, no treasure
    I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that thrill, no treasure
    I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that bass, no treasure
    I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that thrill… Hey!

    Because you know I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that thrill, no treasure
    I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that thrill, no treasure
    I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that bass, no treasure
    I’m all about that thrill
    ‘Bout that thrill… Hey!

    I’m all about that thrill
    Bout that thrill…
    Yeah yeah… ohh… You know you like this thrill… Hey…

    • Wildbird, That’s great! Never knew you had it in ya. Hey!
      Wish there was music and video to with it…. Very funny. πŸ™‚


    The nocturnal sky with its luminous points of light
    Spinning infinitely in the blackness of night
    What is this wondrous universe of ours?
    With billions of galaxies, each with billions of stars?

    I fly up to the moon and out past Mars
    Past Jupiter and Pluto, then on to the stars
    Past Orion’s belt and the Pleiades
    Beyond the Milky Way to the galaxies

    The earth has long since vanished from my view
    The sun has withered to a drop of morning dew
    And our galaxy has become a distant speck of light
    Now fading completely from my sight

    With each leap in scale my heart stands still
    To fathom how the infinitely large, withers to nil
    As galactic clusters become a small dim light
    There is still no end in sight

    I fall back to earth to where I stand
    And start another journey into my hand
    Through the pores of my skin,
    To the cells below and the atoms within

    Each dot grows as I descend in scale
    Revealing another world as I pierce the veil
    Smaller and smaller without end
    To eternity I descend

    Infinitely large, infinitely small
    We will never find an end to it all
    For creation is not found in the tiniest part
    It is the structure that is at matter’s heart

    So seek not the end of size
    Nor the universe’s birth or demise
    For where all creation must reside
    Is in how the space divides!

    The ancient symbols hold the key
    To the sacred geometry
    Two pyramids within a ring
    Can divide to create everything

    Infinite fractals with infinite spin
    Create the shape of Yang and Yin
    David’s star is a pyramid up and down
    Where the conscious feedback loop is found

    Sixty-four tetrahedron’s form the greatest stability
    And match the I Ching’s grid of reality
    What the ancients knew so long ago
    Was how matter ebbed and flowed

    All the universe is on a spinning keel
    From the tiniest particles to a galactic wheel
    What force could play such a role?
    If not the gravitational pull of a dynamic black hole?

    A black hole at the center of all that spins
    Is where matter ends and soul begins
    Moving infinitely between the two
    A double torus in an infinite loop

    From the quiescent potential of pure energy
    To the manifestation of material reality
    We are tied to the Source from every atom and cell
    Constantly moving in and out of the creative well

    The key to heavens door
    Need not be hidden any more
    The hole is the whole, is the Holy place
    With omniscient energy to embrace

    With each breath I expel
    I see the transparency of this mortal shell
    Dare we not forget where we trod
    For everywhere is the face of God

  71. Whereas,
    Forrest Fenn has made great contributions
    To the Santa Fe community
    The mayor praises his attributions
    And for all he’s given an opportunity

    Forrest Fenn has penned a picture book
    “The Thrill of the Chase”, it contains a poem
    That encourages the world to go out and look
    And start in Santa Fe, Forrest’s home

    Forrest has made no profit on book sales
    He’s a charitable philanthropist
    The local businesses thrive on his tales
    He’s Santa Fe’s modern day romanticist

    The distinguished Javier M. Gonzales
    Mayor of New Mexico’s Santa Fe
    Proclaims May 29, 2015 for all is
    Known from this time as, “Thrill of the Chase Day”

    (Forrest, I am using poetic license to tweak your award and offer my congratulations πŸ™‚ Hope I don’t get in trouble.)

  72. I’m Back To Writing

    I’m back to writing it’s what I do
    It helps me to deal with people like you
    What are you talking about
    What did I do
    What did I say I hear from you
    Can’t I write about what is right
    Can’t I write about what I see
    This is how you impact me
    If I’m wrong for putting in word
    Making you think of something absurd
    If you did or said something wrong
    At least I didn’t write a country song
    Or post it on the internet
    I wrote this Poem so you did not forget
    If you did something in a positive way
    This is my praise to you read it every day
    If you just exist in my life
    Only thinking of me once or twice
    You have nothing to fear as long as you’re nice
    I hope my word have made you think
    You have made an impact on the way that I think
    These are my words simple and true
    And now for my best
    May God Bless You!
    Written By
    Mark H Brown

  73. I’ve no talent for decoding Poe
    of that I cannot lie,
    Or composing rhyming verses,
    although I gave it a try.
    To enjoy such a transient pleasure
    my words need wings to fly,
    I’ll simply check the boxes,
    and upon your poetry spy.

  74. Part One: 1930

    As I stroll in silence alongside a bubbling stream,
    A glimmer of movement flickers off to the side.
    I turn swiftly to catch the gauzy azure wings
    Disappear at the moment a meadowlark sings.

    The chirping stream, the merry meadowlark.
    The early sun tingles upon my skin.
    A musical, magical place, I just know I’m right…
    I sit on the cool soft grass as I pray for new sight.

    The meadowlark alights on a twig above the happy brook,
    Her song is a hymn of the meadow
    Her puffed yellow breast gleams with pride,
    And her song finds the peace I’d lost inside.

    A spotted deer drinks just a few yards away
    And the stream is content to share it’s purity.
    As I watch in silent awe and childlike glee,
    The deer raises her head and…wow…she winks at me.

    Then the grass, a grove of surreal green
    As it dries the morning dew,
    Comes alive with a sight I’d always hoped to see–
    Nine tiny fairies, looking up curiously at me.

    They make me want to want to smile, so I do,
    Their radiant laughter is wind chimes in the breeze.
    They don’t seem amazed that I’m aware they’re there,
    With their guileless smiles, they draw melody from the air.

    They dance, they play, their laughter like Christmas bells
    Instill in me a desire to join them, but doesn’t yet feel right.
    So, I watch, and listen. I’m rapt in their dance.
    I know, just know, I’m not here by chance.

    The tinkling, chiming fairy songs sound like praise–
    To what or whom I don’t know.
    But when one sweet pixie wing grazes my cheek with a kiss,
    I know I’m was in church, in this garden of bliss.

    With the sun-washed mountains around me,
    And the blossomed meadow and clear stream in my midst,
    I know this is my sacred place, and my time to shine,
    I can leave in contentment, for I now know what is mine.

    Maybe not mine alone, because that does no good.
    This sacred meadow was meant to be shared.
    After all, church is for those desperate for light,
    And what better place than here to make wrongs right.

    So search for that special purple-woven meadow
    With the misty rainbow fairies, majestic deer, and lark.
    Open your ears, open your eyes, and open your heart,
    For church in holy meadow will bestow a fresh start..

    • Mindy, your lovely poem reminded me of an old one that speaks to my soul this Sunday:

      “The lovely things are quiet things
      Soft falling snow,
      And feathers dropped from flying wings
      Make no sound as they go.

      A petal loosened from a rose,
      Quietly seeks the ground,
      And love, if lovely, when it goes,
      Goes without a sound.” – Amiel’s Journal

      The greatest forces in nature are quiet ones. Gravity is silent, yet invincibe; the silent soil is the womb where flora are born in the meadow. The greatest things in our spiritual life come out of our waiting hours, when our activity has halted and our soul is silent before God. When our soul is quietly anchored to God and his precious promises, our life is victorious in it’s peace.

  75. ” Thank You ”

    Santa Fe awarded Forrest Fenn , with a cities proclamation,

    Thanking him for ” The Thrill of The Chase” , and awaking a sleeping nation.

    Many searchers pass through this town, while on their ” golden ” quest,

    Looking for some ” treasures galore ” , hidden in an old world chest.

    If you have not taken the time to stop, while looking for a place to roam,

    Stop and visit this beautiful place, that Forrest and Peggy call home.

    Memories are created there, they’ll last your whole life long,

    The people , art and culture , together sing a spiritual song.

    Forrest you have created memories , by awaking a sleeping nation,

    ” Thank You Forrest ” from all us searchers , on your………..


    By Focused

  76. I just heard that recent interview with Forrest and it reminded me of this old French poem. I thought it was funny, well the interviewer was funny, because he seemed to be asking questions as if poems like this are correct than that means there isn’t a real chest. Like he thought the title was “The Thrill OR the Chest”. Anyhow…I’m glad there’s a thrill AND a chest. Here’s a happy reminder about the thrill OF the chase that I wanted to share:
    If life is a gift

    Us, it was all blue
    A summer sky, a transparent ocean
    We, we were two
    and we loved each other strong enough to stop time

    But time has cheated on us
    So, why having promised me the entire world?
    Our love would have been enough
    I didn’t want imaginary happiness
    If life is a gift

    If life is a gift
    Given present, taken back gift, stolen present
    Take love as a gift
    Given present, taken back gift, stolen present
    Happiness is too short

    Us, it was the child I wanted badly
    To offer you in Spring

    But time has got all the rights
    So, why having promised me the entire world?
    And the child that is not there?
    Now it is my only imaginary happiness
    If life is a gift

    If life is a gift
    Given present, taken back gift, stolen present
    Take love as a gift
    Given present, taken back gift, stolen present
    Happiness is too short.


    (NOT my work but I don’t know the authors name and I have a feeling they wouldn’t mind)

  77. HOME

    We all come into this world, in a different time and place.

    The one thing that we have in common, we share this beautiful space.

    Notice all the little things, in our space we call earth,

    Cause sometimes it’s the smallest things, that have the greatest worth.

    To some real beauty lies within , a skyscraper standing tall,

    To others it’s the ” sounds of serenity “, in a remote little waterfall.

    To others its more simple, small steps pattering down the hall,

    Or maybe it’s a grandchild, who just hit their first tee ball.

    Maybe that first haircut , scared to sit real still,

    To place within an envelope, and tightly press the seal.

    Beauty comes in many forms , many shapes and sizes,

    Take the time to notice them , and enjoy all earths prizes.

    God knew what he was doing , when he built this home we share,

    Take care of it for years to come, to show him how much we care.

    If I could pass one word of advice, to each and every man,

    Love your neighbor , Forgive a sinner , and thank ” God ” we have this land!

    By: Focused

  78. This is a poem written by a friend of ours, his name is Fred he wrote on May 24,2011.

    The Cross

    What do you see when you look at the cross? I see it holding open the door to our Heavenly Father for all who are lost.

    The cross before me now is bare, the crucified King is no longer there..

    The vacant cross prompts the message I give, Christ died for me, for Him, I will live.

    Behind the vacant cross, I see the once borrowed, empty tomb, when Christ arose, He brought eternal hope from a certain doom.

    Do you see the cross as a beacon, is that what u say, to light up our dark world and show us the way ?

    Does it resemble a price tag that reflects the cost? Yes Jesus paid it all as The way to save the lost.

    Do you see a Crimson stain that refuses to be washed away, it is the fulfillment of prophesy, what more can u say.

    The cross is an anchor during the storms of our life, so cling to it tightly through the trails and strife.

    Crucifixion was mans way to cause humiliation, degradation, and agony, then death would end the pain. But Jesus had no sin, overcame death and Salvation was our gain.

    Do you see the cross as victory all day and all night long, yes, there is victory in Jesus and not just in a song.

    I see the nail scarred hands still reaching out to save more souls, the impression is quite vivid, I can clearly see the holes.

    The cross is the ultimate symbol of how Jesus obeyed our God above,nails didn’t keep Jesus on the cross……. It was His undying Love .

  79. Here I’m ready to put another birthday to bed,
    Lying here, trying to sort the thoughts in my head.
    It’s been another amazing year,
    Funny, once I thought I’d never get here…
    I have wowed myself, some of the things I’ve done,
    I’ve overcome the odds I once thought couldn’t be won,
    I’ve gazed at the marvel, and scorched in the sun.
    I’ve grown in ways I’d never expected,
    And have lived inside a dream.
    I thank God for each day, each blink, each breath,
    And I am scared to death, of death.
    But until that time, I’ll take each day
    I’ll push my way through, trying to keep smiling
    Along the way.
    Fun is where you find it,
    Someone once said… πŸ™‚
    I’m gonna have as much fun as I can…
    Put that on my stone head!

    • Birthday Wishes

      Hello jdiggins , just thought I’d drop in ,

      Just to say ” Hi ” , to a good online friend.

      Keep having your fun , till the angels they come,

      Kick up your heels , and reach for the sun.

      Enjoy the things you do on the way,

      You’ll never look back , and regret it someday,

      Wishing you a life, happy and true,

      Oh ! I almost forgot ” HAPPY BIRTHDAY ” to you !!!!


      P.S. Good job I liked your words……..

  80. congrats on the smoking ….. 2 yrs for me….. hang in there.. it will get easier…

  81. Happy Birthday to you Jdiggins…I hope your day was full of joy and good wishes from all who love you!!

  82. Thx lia! I love you guys! Even if this is all just a figment of my imagination…lol! πŸ™‚

    • I’m not a figment…….trust me I’m real….ouch….I had to pinch myself to make sure….lol. Night jdiggins………. πŸ™‚

    • I’m live, real, and occasionally real lively Jdiggins:)

      Happy day, good night!

  83. Got a rocky Mountain storm here in cali. Bad reception. Until again…

  84. ” The Special One ”

    The holy Grail of Santa fe , sits silent in repose,

    For a day or a thousand years , no one really knows.

    Waiting for a special one , whom many hours spent,

    Trying to decode a poem , that one ole man has sent.

    For when they proudly lay their eyes , upon that “golden” place ,

    Let’s not Β forget ole Forrest Fenn , who gave us this “golden” race.

    Without him we would be living , our normal everyday lives ,

    Not living out adventure , searching for his gracious prize.

    A selfless act , by a selfless man, just for you and me.

    Should forever be written, with pen of gold, in the book of history.

    So ask yourself , if had the means , could you have done it too ?

    If not, then a thing called greed , lives deep inside of you.

    So while your on adventure , looking for That ” Holy Grail ” ,

    Take the time to thank the man , who put wind within your sail !!!


    By Focused

  85. Another great one focused πŸ™‚

    I’m playing canasta and having a blast
    Since my “Where Warm Waters Halt” dried up in the past

    I’m holding my cards close until I can go out
    And making a plan while traveling about

    Perhaps a Joker could bring me some luck
    Wiley and wild so I shouldn’t get stuck

    I’m still in the game and I hope, with a grin,
    To find the chest of the great Forrest Fenn

    Thank you Forrest!!!!!

    • Focused and CindyM once again you are both Amazing!!! Oh, I almost forgot think ewe Forrest πŸ™‚

    • Thanks cindym , spallies , and jdiggins…..good job cindym I liked your poem…

    • I see you playing canasta , you said so CindyM ,

      Been a while since I’ve played , care if I join in ?

      You say your waters gone for now, soon it will be wet.

      Then your journey can resume , on you I’ll place my bet.

      They say a joker brings good luck , kinda like a 4 leaf clover.

      Hold it tightly close to you , once played the game is over.

      If you look upon the ” chest ” , I know you’ll wear a grin ,

      Returning a turquoise bracelet , to the master Forrest Fenn.

      If that happens , just promise me CindyM ,

      Gently break the news to us, your many online friends !!!!!!


        • Thank you CindyM . Β Glad you liked my words…you have amazing talent too ….keep it up..k… Good luck to ya in the chase…..until next time……SEE YA , Β πŸ™‚

  86. ” Turquoise Buckle ”

    Turquoise is the Β maiden stone , of many upon this earth ,

    A perfect blend of green and blue , when polished , shows it’s worth.

    This stone was used by ancient man , for healing and for show ,

    How long ago this first began , no one really knows .

    Turquoise holds a special power , for anyone who believes ,

    Clamp it tightly in your fist , and feel that ancient breeze.

    Blowing in the past of those, who lived upon this land ,

    Oh , the power in that stone , you hold within your hand ..

    Some turquoise beads were put , on a bracelet in a row ,

    By an Indian , who felt the breeze , many years ago .

    Now it sits within a chest , filled to the rim with treasures ,

    But it’s the turquoise , not the riches , where you will find your pleasure.

    When the chest is finally found , and the lid Β is surly raised ,

    No doubt the look upon their face , will be astonished and amazed ,

    Ancient breezes will start blowing , and Forrest he will chuckle ,

    Because the ancient past will speak to him , through his turquoise buckle…

    By: Focused

    • Absolutely awesome, focused!
      Just peeked in on break, saw this, HAD to comment! Bravo! πŸ™‚

    • That’s an amazing poem focused! It makes me wish I were “buckled in”, heading for Santa Fe and the Forrest Fenn treasure.

        • Your welcome , but it’s not just me keeping poetry alive on the blog…there’s jdiggins , mindy and of course you too…and a host of others……the talent here is amazing… Me ..I just scribble thoughts on paper, it’s a good thing I have a back button..lol Good luck to ya……keep penning.. πŸ™‚

      • Thanks CindyM , hang in there..soon you can buckle in and take off on your next adventure…

      • 23kachinas –

        Thanks so much for posting that – I found it very interesting and will be following it.

  87. “A Haiku For You”

    A turquoise bracelet
    Gold nuggets in a bronze chest
    Silently waiting

    • ” A Haiku For Fathers ”

      Just wanted to say

      To all the fathers out there

      Happy Fathers Day !Β 

      • Very nice focused. Below is my own lame offering πŸ™‚

        Happy Father’s Day to all the amazing dads out there. You know who are,,, and to you Forrest.

        • A father for me,
          A long past memory.
          But I have adopted forrest fenn
          He has filled my heart with father
          Again! πŸ™‚
          Happy father’s day!

          • Jd, beautiful and touching.

            I’m sure forrest is honored andyour dad is smiling down in approval

    • No Rhyme No Reason?

      A verse without rhyme
      To honor all the Fathers
      So there’s a reason

  88. I’ve been on the Chase since March 2013. I’ve searched the same area about 10 times. One more time to go I reckon… It’s always one more time, right?

    Well, imitation is the highest form of flattery as they say and I’ve been inspired so much by Forrest, I’ve decided to do a bit of flattering.

    In August I’ll be publishing a book with a poem (you might be familiar with the genre). My “treasure” is a bit different though. I’m not a millionaire and I don’t have a vast collection of neat things for someone to find.

    Check out my website for details: http://www.swagandseek.com.

    Here’s part of the poem as a sneak peek.

    The Golden Apple holds a key,
    But that’s a Tale lost in time.
    This poem isn’t as you see,
    Even though it seems to rhyme.

    As you’re marching like a King
    Your way has been written nigh.
    Spend some time reflecting,
    Then go forth toward where they try.

    We all look up towards the end
    When our time is drawing near.
    Steady as you go around the bend
    And know there’s nothing left to fear.

    From there with a fox you’ll dance.
    Try to keep up for a round.
    If you’re wise you’ll take a chance
    And tread across sacred ground.

    • Hello, Swag. You have a great idea there…following in the footsteps of Forrest Fenn. He’s an awesome man. I can’t for the life of me figure out where he finds the time time to accomplish so many things. I’m looking forward to your treasure hunt. I’d love to give it a go.

  89. What Mr. Fenn does with pen strokes reminds me of what Beverly Doolittle does with brush strokes. Deception and camouflage to tickle the mind.

    • ararebird – that’s a perfect analogy. Bev Doolittle is amazing with camouflaging detail right before your eyes.

      • Thank you Anna. Her flare for the southwest fits perfectly with the search areas. I have a large hard cover book of her life and work that was given to me by a late friend. I cherish it dearly.

  90. look at me
    I am only a child
    whatever you do
    I learn
    whatever you say I learn
    I listen
    if you tell me something is right
    I will believe you
    if you tell me something is wrong
    I will believe you
    you gave me life
    now show me what it is all about
    please don’t hurt me
    or abuse me
    take care of me
    protect me
    ask me if I have a problem
    I might have a secret
    talk to me
    I am young
    please don’t mess me up
    I am only a child

    copyright 2004
    Me πŸ™‚

    • Bravo jdiggins ! Loved your words……. ” a Childs heart , untarnished by today’s evils , is a gift from God …… Thanks jdiggins …..see ya

  91. Jdiggins, such an honest appeal to the heart of every adult, especially parents.
    Your poem caused me to pause and think about how I parent. Is my intent to point at ‘wrong’, or with humility, simply ask with restorative intent? Thanks for sharing your poem with us.

  92. Someone once shared Shakespeare’s “Quality of Mercy” here describing what mercy looks like in the hearts of rulers. I’ve been trying harder to live it as a parent and as a friend. I love these words…

    The quality of mercy is not strained;
    It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
    Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest;
    It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.


    I walk into a forest , I sit upon a rise ,

    Admiring all the beauty , that lay before my eyes .

    The rays that filters through the trees , softly light the floor ,

    Chipmunks scurrying all about , doing their daily chores .

    A hint of movement in the brush , quickly caught my eye ,

    A doe with her spotted fawn , came strolling slowly by .

    No care at all , that I was there , she knew I meant no harm ,

    Just then a butterfly softly lit , careless upon on my arm ,

    It fly’s off , then I stand , to leave this heavenly place ,

    I start walking , off the rise , a smile upon my face ,

    The memories that I made that day, will last my whole life Long ,

    You too should walk into the forest , and listen to natures song.

    As I’m walking along the path , I hear a large stick break !

    Then something grabs me by the shoulder , and frightens me awake.

    Just to realize , that I was dreaming , because I dozed off asleep ,

    The oil change man , then said to me , “your keys are on the seat”,

    By : FocusedΒ 

    • Focused,,,

      Another wonderful work of art that truly speaks to my heart.

      Your descriptive poem has placed me there where one can sit without a care.

      For I have also seen that rise whether in my dreams or before my eyes

      It’s such a place that calls me home and the true reason why I roam

      Relaxing and tranquil to my soul to find in the grand scheme, what’s my role?

      So much to see with wildlife plentiful as I rest upon my pinnacle.

      This beautiful place full of earthly delights is but in my mind,, I’m afraid of heights.

      • Cindy and focused you see
        We are of a kin cloth we three
        Though each will have
        Their ups and downs
        Each will have their smiles and frowns
        when I am far and away
        In my special place
        I really can’t say
        Whether it’s in time
        Or space
        But I can breath
        The freshest of air
        My body like a sheath
        for the energy there
        The birds, the river,
        the wind o’er the bluff above
        A timeless moment
        A sliver
        I’m in love
        With this the most holy of places
        To me
        I could see why one would choose here
        For eternity.

        • Great job jdiggins….you and CindyM have a way with words that’s pleasing to the heart….both of you guys keep up the good work…….see ya …. πŸ™‚

      • No Kyle I don’t………I usually change my own oil….that’s just what popped into my mind…lol. Good luck to ya….. -:)

        • Your poem is deep, “Daydreams” by Lupe fiasco came to mind instantly.

          Since this site is difficult to use on my phone I will only be able to share some poetry that has inspired me.

          “Thieves in the Night” – Blackstar. Listen to the song while reading the lyrics. I think you would identify strongly with the themes. This is in my opinion one of the best hip-hop songs of all time.

          “Reflektor” – Arcade Fire. Truly epic, the live versions are great too. Spinning discs reminds me of arecibo.

          • The first time I read about TTOTC was May 13th. My first trip Mineral Peak was about 10 days later. That morning in Missoula, I listened to Reflektor (the song) for about an hour and a half on repeat for the entire drive from Missoula up Gold Creek Road, 101% certain that I was going to find a bronze chest filled with gold; thinking it was in a piece of wood in a pond 1597 feet NE from the end of the road at the top of Mineral Peak. Rattlesnake creek, paddlesnake creek, get it??? 56/19!

            When of course I failed at my quest, I felt like the song had betrayed me, and didn’t want to listen to it for a while. Then a few weeks later I listened to it again…. and again… about 50 times in the next few weeks. On the drive into LA it almost brought me to tears (happy tears) while rocking out to it in the car. Tonight I watched the video for the first time in many months.

            True story. More to come later. Just thought you’d like that bit, had to get it off my chest =)

            For everyone seeking the answer: e to the Pi*sqrt(163)

            You’re almost there.

            Prometheus, I wish to set thee free.

          • What are you saying he put a bicycle reflector out there, that would be the blaze we’d see at night. He talks about a white horse with colorful garlands.

          • She caught me solving and she told me to stop!

            Quit these pretentious things and just punch the clock.

            Most days I feel my life it has a purpose,

            Enjoy the being and time on this Earth’s surface.

    • Focused…I enjoyed this poem. For me, it hits home how lucky I am each and every day to experience the simple moments here close to my home. You made me think about the sun streaming through the mist in the woods around my home and especially how the large and small spider webs show themselves. It always seems magical and evokes one’s imagination.

      This morning…I was there to watch and hear the pileated woodpeckers (Woody) and watch a spotted fawn run and jump after it’s mother.

      • Thanks retired postmaster ..glad you enjoyed my words…if you enjoy the little things around you then you may like my poem called ” home ” …I wrote it on June 5th of this poetry page….good luck to you in the chase… See ya…. πŸ™‚

    • LOL! Not one comment or critique. You guys are no fun at all. So you just keep reading the poem upside down, replacing words, counting sentences, reading tarot cards, picking out color combinations, looking at paintings, and turning it into a math equation; and I’ll just take down my link. No harm, no foul. Your clique is not worth the price of admission.

      BTW, Seeker, if halt meant stop, the poem would stop, and there would be no “water high” below the home of Brown. JMO of course.

      Best of luck to all.

      • Hello ararebird,
        I attempted to visit the site and both times received a message stating the page doesn’t exist. Just a suggestion…place your poem/solve on Dal’s ‘Poetry Page’.

      • Hi ararebird, can you print it up here in the blog?

        I know you have a strong back and good teeth. If I didn’t make a comment, I’m sure there was a good reason.

  94. Hi Anna,

    I’m sorry you weren’t able to visit my site. 176 people read it today, 12 from Dal’s site. With all due respect, it will never be posted again. Best of luck to you.

    • ararebird –

      I liked your poem – I read it. I really think it takes awhile to establish a trust among posters.

      I am thinking you are pretty new here – so perhaps that will take some posting of your thoughts here.

      If your blog is new – 176 people reading it is really good.

      Best of luck to you and I hope you take a deep breath and keep posting here.

      • hi into

        30-40 days maybe, no response with first hello, asked to leave first week.

        blog is 8 yrs old- 176 views that post. 650 posts

        I breathe easy thank you. I truly find it amusing.

        Best to you as well.

  95. The fuse is lit, the moon is full;
    The Wolf howls, the stars align,
    And guide three wise through the bull,
    Gypsies smile and see the sign.

    Gods of Jupiter and Venus unite;
    Colours of the rainbow explode,
    On this celebratory night,
    Birth to a nation bestowed.

  96. ” Memories Playground ”

    Memories I’ve made , on this ultimate chase ,

    No ravage of time , could ever erase .

    Etched in my mind , like written on stone ,

    Anytime I can relive them , while sitting at home,

    Sometimes I wonder , if the “chase” were to end,

    Would some folks on this blog , still remain to be friends.

    Some they would Β fade , and go on their way,

    Never to be heard , in this life that we play.

    Other Β Friends that were made , right here in the “chase” ,

    Will play their part , with a smile on their face.

    If that day , in my lifetime arrives,

    Let’s meet in Santa Fe , and talk bout the prize..

    Until that day , my memories I’m making ,

    Looking for A chest , that’s there for the taking.

    Thank you Forrest ! For the ultimate race , cause ,

    Friendships are made in ” The Thrill Of The Chase ”

    There’s Dal , and Goofy , and the one Β “Diggin Gypsy”,

    To many to mention , some who seem tipsy.

    Jdiggins , and CindyM , on the poetry space ,

    Let’s not forget Amy , with smiles on her face.

    Spallies , the Wolf , wiseone so smart ,

    We all want to finish…but first we must start.

    To many to mention , I’ll be here all day ,

    So Let’s make some memories , in Forrest’s playground we play…..Β 

    By : Focused

    • Three Fingers pinched and pointed against pursed lips; sfx:SMACK! Manneefeek!!! Now clapping, Braveeseemo focused, braveeeseeemo! !! πŸ™‚

      • Thanks jdiggins…glad you liked it…. I’ll be making more memories next week…on my 18th trip….wish me luck… πŸ™‚ … See ya

        • Best of luck to ya my friend. πŸ™‚
          I’m planning for end of july…if it’s still there… πŸ˜‰

  97. Thanks , best of luck to you too jdiggins…. Happy 4th to your family…. See ya

  98. Focus

    See your awesome. Forrest has a magnificent Playground and I’m Thrilled I got to play. πŸ™‚

    Happy 4th of July. I love Fireworks πŸ™‚
    Especially the Big Finale at the END πŸ˜‰

    • Thanks Amy , your awesome too….I also enjoyed Forrest’s playground….I hope I see fireworks with a big finale next week…..happy 4th to you and your family Amy……keep smiling….. πŸ™‚ see ya

    • If fireworks exploded in the forest,
      And set it all ablaze,
      Would you try your hardest,
      To close your eyes, avert your gaze?

      Keep your eyelids closed,
      There’s no smell of smoke,
      You think the treasure’s yours,
      But it’s all a joke.

      Your eyes wide shut,
      The hunt is never over,
      So lift those heavy eyelids,
      Because every time you close your eyes,

      Spirals sell you lies.

  99. You snooze you lose
    Gotta watch CBS News
    There might be clues

    Forrest is grilled by Barry
    It may not all be merry
    It could even be scary

    CBS News is somewhat certain that the story they shot with Forrest last month will be on tomorrow on CBS Sunday Morning. The producer told me, “Forrest hands out a new clue.”
    It is a “news” show so the story line-up can change and Forrest’s story might be dropped if something more timely needs to air. If so they would reschedule it for a following Sunday.
    The CBS web folks are already promoting the story with a video clip:

    If you need to know when CBS Sunday Morning airs in your town, look here:

    After the show airs it should be available on their web site for awhile.
    and it may be tough getting on the blog right after it airs once viewers start looking for more information.

  100. I’ve given great thought
    Time and again
    Of what is now
    And what was then
    Sometimes my mind
    Plays tricks on me
    But its designed
    to set me free
    I love the chase
    I love the adventure
    I fully embrace
    Enlist and endenture
    as much as I can chew
    And why
    Cuz one thing I cannot do
    Is let life pass me by.

    just a quickie. πŸ˜‰

    • Sometimes when we lack the time
      But want to put forth a fast rhyme
      The format can be a bit tricky
      And we end up with a jingle-ly quickie.

    • Jdiggins, do you mind if I post your poem on my blog? It’s very nice. πŸ™‚

      • Sure mindy. I’m honored. Thank you. πŸ™‚

        Btw, looking forward to your next post…good intrigue. πŸ™‚

    • Awoke in my car by the mid noon day light,

      Three hours I slept and treasure I dreamt,

      Thousand miles to my back from the Pacific I trecht,

      A cold can of coffee I downed,

      Down the path up the meadow I crept,

      No signs of other searchers to throw off my scent,

      When I came to the spot I let out a laugh,

      Tricked again the rascal he watched from the bull rush,

      Hinting of secrets right under my nose,

      I took off my boots and dried out my toes,

      Maybe next time I thought in a lickety split,

      And I thanked the woods for a wonderful trip

  101. So I finally started to type up my solution, and oh my! I’m smarter than I thought! I’ll get this tc yet! πŸ™‚
    Lookout everyone…I’m on fire! πŸ™‚

      • Well Mr d. It’s one thing for me to see it on paper, write it down, spout off at the mouth about it…
        Then there is reality…when I get there, and the whole great big Ole giant world is there waiting with a big grin…

        But I’ll try my best!!! πŸ™‚

  102. The poetry pals go on a quest
    To give Dals poetry page a rest
    They rhyme in Wyoming
    As through that state they go roaming
    While looking for blazes and owls nests

    In Montana they write many limericks
    All full of fun and word gimmicks
    They put all that they see
    Into clever poetry
    And enjoy each other’s antics

    In New Mexico they pen haikus
    As they marvel at the scenic views
    With some serious beauty
    They make it their duty
    To express in prose their searching news

    In Colorado they put together a journal
    For those whose search is eternal
    Poetry pals til the end
    With a forward by Fenn
    And a wonderful review by our Dal

    Now they call themselves the Fenn PALS for short-
    Poets Anonymous Literary Support
    The group goes around
    Breaking new ground
    With their poetic TTOTC report

    • Encore, CindyM! Encore!

      Of course, that’s easy for me to “say”.
      With me, words won’t have their way.
      Though I tease and get fresh
      And offer cream with peach flesh,
      My rhyme’s like an egg that won’t lay.

      See? I can’t carry a poem in a bucket.
      I’ve finally decided to say…

      Oh, my! Look at the time!

  103. Mirror Mirror On My Wall, Who Will Find The Chest After All. πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚

  104. Roses are Red and Violets are Blue, Thank you Forrest for all your Clues. πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚

  105. ” First ”

    Walk into a forest , be first to stand that ground,

    First person to see the sights from there , first to hear the sounds.

    First to sit upon your log , first to see that flower ,

    While it’s proudly shining there , in Β it’s finest hour .

    First to see the chipmunks work , scurrying all about,

    Carrying twigs into a hole , then quickly running out.

    Be the first to look around , this this amazing piece of ground ,

    First to hear the eagles call , that breaks the silent sound .

    First to see this babbling brook , reflecting light of day,

    Heading for some lower ground , as it gently flows away.

    First to feel the blowing Β wind , as it passes by this place ,

    First to sit upon a log , with it steady in your face.

    Before you leave the forest , and go about your way ,

    First Give thanks to “God” above , for the forest in which you play.

    Β As you leave , this heavenly place , first listen to what I say ,

    Give thanks for all the little things , you’ve seen throughout your day.

    Because of him your sitting there , reading my every verse ,

    Put the credit , where credit is due , and always put “God” FIRST…………………..

    By : Focused

    • Your welcome straw shadow , have a great day…… Good luck to ya in the chase……

  106. Inside
    By Michael D

    Does it matter in time, when all is said and done?
    When the truth is finally known, can you share it with anyone?
    So put that good book down, close your eyes and see,
    There’s a little bit of heaven inside you and me.
    Your heart tells you no lies, if you listen you will hear.
    From the truth you’re taught to hide for all your schooling years.
    Does it matter in time how much you glitter gold?
    Will a blanket made of money keep you from the cold?
    Is the dream you have your own? The passion must be real.
    No one else can know just how you should think and feel.
    So reach inside yourself, pull it out and see.
    Life is just as hard as you make it out to be.


    By Michael D

    Too preoccupied with ignorance to give it one more try
    You cannot hitch a ride my friend if you tell the horse goodbye.

    You do not learn a thing while you just let your life go by.

    Fear is your worst enemy, you’ve got to get back on and ride.

    Find something that gives you hope, seek your truth untold.

    Your heart is where your answer lies but your mind must not be closed.

    And if the things you seek are not your answers, do not quit the search!

    You’ve learned something about yourself; take it for what it’s worth.

    The pain of being wrong will always fade away,

    But the pain of never knowing never goes away.

  108. Michael D , Your no slouch , words spoken from the heart have a far reaching impact on the readers who’s eyes are cast upon them…… your words are from the heart…… to me that’s all it takes…… even though it is fun to throw in a few funny quirks now and then…. I enjoyed your words keep penning…… good luck to ya in the chase….. see ya.. πŸ™‚

    • Yes you y’all are pretty amazing… Keep it up I think everyone here really enjoys it… I know I do πŸ™‚

    • I just get lucky every now and then….. Just think and type…lol. Keep smiling πŸ™‚

      • ” Youthful Hearts ”

        Some live their life , staying young at heart ,

        But , how is that possible , where do I start ?

        I’ve tried and tried , but to no avail ,

        The older I get , the less wind in my sail.

        I’ve known others , whose spirits they soar ,

        Creeping on 80 , with youthful galore .

        Laughing and joking , as young minded do ,

        No care in the world , and joking with you .

        I’ve got to find , the freedom they wear ,

        Youthful and glowing , without any care .

        My heart grows eager , though it’s growing old ,

        I’m not giving up , till it’s youthful and bold .

        Then I too , can live the life of the young ,

        Then when I speak , youth rolls off my tongue .

        Age is a battle , that’s not going to win ,

        I’m not laying down , I’m not giving in ,

        I will fight it for sure , with every beat of my heart ,

        Starting right now , with a new youthful start…………….

        By: Focused

  109. Focused, if you wrote about a flatulent wind it would be poetry!

    You truly have a gift and thank you for sharing it with us! πŸ™‚

    • Thanks jdiggins , maybe I will try to write about the ” flatuant wind ” next….lol glad you like them…. See ya

  110. ” Campfire Stories ”

    While out in the mountains , Β searching for gold ,

    Β At the campfire , where stories are told .

    Waiting your turn , while everyone tells ,

    Of Their daily adventures , and dusty ole trails.

    Your patience pays off , now your time has come ,

    To tell them your story , of a day full of fun.

    You start your story , as all searchers do ,

    At warm waters halt , Β sounds perfect to you .

    All ears are listening , while each clue you pass ,

    Pausing sometimes , Β for a sip from your glass .

    The campfire is burning , while your poking about

    The embers are rising , then quickly go out.

    Your story’s about over , your down to the blaze ,

    All eyes Β are upon you , steady fixed and a gaze.

    Just when your ready , to tell them about ,

    A loudly ole ” Fart ” , done found it’s way out !

    Laughing and joking , from all of your friends ,

    You gather yourself , to tell them the end ….

    No one is listening , lost in the moment ,

    Nothing to do now , just sit there and own it.

    The campfire is shining , a very low light ,

    But That’s not the only blaze , that’s gone for tonight……….

    By : FocusedΒ 

    P.S. This one is for you jdiggins , I hope I didn’t offend anyone….

    Good luck in the chase everyone…….

    • See, I told you!!! Omg, I am cracking up! Great way to start the day! Thx focused!

    • “Campside Salmonella, The Morning After”

      You’re up in the mountains, at dawn’s early light,,,

      Face is bare, bedroll hair, you know you look a fright!

      The smell of camp coffee is wafting through the air.

      Now your friends are stirring too with eyes all aglare.

      The memory of the previous night still blazed in your mind,

      No one answered your “Blazing Saddles” moment in kind.

      So close to announcing the puzzling solution

      After years of subterfuge and convolution.

      Was is yesterday’s trout still thrashing about

      Or the camp beans that loftily found their way out?

      Now the secret is still safe as it’s ever been,,,

      Saved by a mighty flatulent wind!

      Anonymous πŸ™‚

      @ focused,,, very funny and edgy. I couldn’t let it escape unnoticed πŸ™‚

    • Hello Focused et al, I love the poetry here. My eyes get watery reading the poems quite frequently, butt this time there’s something different…something a little off.


      Maybe it’s just something in the air…or maybe it’s just the campfire smoke…butt saying, “Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit” doesn’t make my eyes stop watering. πŸ™‚

      I, also, hope that video didn’t offend anyone.

    • Wonderful poem. Enjoy it very much. You capture the fun and the essence of the chase – we are all so excited to tell our story but the end just never seems to come to light! After all the hard work, a “fart” takes the stage.

      • Laugh or cry…laugh or cry. That’s what I always say. It’s interesting how they both make my eyes water. There’s no getting around it…keeping a dry eye in the house, that is…or in the home of Brown.

  111. If all my trials and all my tears,
    And all that I have learned through the years,
    could write one perfect song,
    To lift one lonely head
    To light some darkened mind,
    I should feel that not in vain
    I served a friend in kind.

    Worthy treasures…
    To an enemy, forgiveness.
    To a friend, your heart.
    To yourself, respect.
    To the despairing, hope.
    To an opponent, tolerance.
    To the fainting heart, human touch.
    To all men, charity.
    Chasing gold, will men deceive.
    It is in giving that we receive.

    Adieu friend

    • Very nice Anna , I agree …… True gifts are the ones that can’t be wrapped with a bow and paper…..those are worthy treasures……I really enjoyed your words Anna ……..your words are spoken from the heart…..keep up the great penning… Good luck to you in the chase…see ya

  112. Soon focused will have wind in his sail
    And his mounts ready to strike the trail

    Dreams of glitter and gold flitter his sleep
    He tries to get shut eye counting sheep

    But excitement racing through his veins
    he leaps from his bed to his mount and reigns

    H ‘ yah he screams! Yippeekiyay!
    On dasher and dancer and prancer I say!

    There’s gold out there in them thar hills
    It’s waiting for me to pay my bills!

    With sword in hand focused rushes ahead
    Then suddenly he gets a smack in the head…
    Oops, fell out a bed. πŸ™‚

    Just having fun, thinking of you. Have safe travels my friend, good luck! πŸ™‚

    • Meanwhile….
      …back at the blog…
      There’s talk of perhaps a petrified log
      Maybe we’re spose to measure a dog
      Spallies lost count, her head in a fog
      But she’s not alone, I’m feelin the grog….

      On dasher, on dancer, on prancer I say!
      There’s gold in them thar hills….get outta my way! πŸ™‚

      Nite. πŸ™‚

      • I went to the forest my quest to seek
        To find and turnover a log
        Soon there it was right next to a creek
        And under it I found a cute frog

        He said… Have you lost your way?
        I said… No I just want to play!

        So he bounded and sprange up from his bed
        And landed on top of my nog
        Now forever he sits on top of my head
        Just me and my frog named Fog… πŸ™‚

        • Spallies has a frog
          A pallies named fog
          she tucks him in each morn
          And he creeps back out each night
          And ribbing his way
          Giving spallies a fright
          She leaps in surprise
          Poor frog, his demise
          Poor frog, named fog, will eat no more flies! πŸ™‚

          Happy day! πŸ™‚

          • To Spallies delight
            Dear Fog brought a light
            To see the forest at night

            Now all they need
            Is a sandwich for feed
            Then happy they’d be indeed

    • Thanks jdiggins, great special tribute…loved it…in YNP now on my chase…..gotta go….see ya…..

    • ” Charge………”

      I fell to the floor , and suddenly waken,

      And hit my head, oh how it’s achin’

      But it brought back some memories, that must really count,

      I jumped to my feet, and ran to my mount.

      With both feet in the stirrups, my sword is at hand,

      Pointing it forward, as I shout my command.

      Kicking my heels, let the charging commence,

      I gallop away , and jump the wood fence.

      Jdiggins has told me, there’s gold in them hills,

      Along with excitement, and all kinda thrills.

      Adventure is flowing, all through my veins,

      I’m not slowing down, till I finish this game.

      If you see me out riding , upon my white horse,

      Don’t try to lure me, I’m staying on course.

      The treasure awaits me, It will sure quench my thirst,

      That’s if jdiggins, don’t beat me there first.

      But if that were to happen, and this game were to end,

      Congrats I would say, to a good online friend………….

      By : Focused

      P.S. Good luck to ya jdiggins… πŸ™‚

      • Welcome home to you focused
        And to your trusty steed.
        Were you missed by your poetry pals?
        And do we love your poems? Indeed!!!!

        • Thanks CindyM , sure nice to know someone missed me..lol Back from yellowstone and I can say I know another place the chest is not at….lol good luck to you in the chase.

          • Of course you were missed
            I just haven’t had any prose
            I’m trying to figure out if I may need to evacuate soon….the rocky fire just switched back again and is headed my way…
            But I had an awesome time this week! How bout you focused?

      • Ahhh the focal man is back and off on a ride. The night lite is red and spewing with pride. If the gal is gonna get it she better not quit. Or else the focus was wasted on wit. And now I know that I sound like a twit.

        You got the win Focus

        • thanks straw shadow….. my ride is over for now…. good luck to ya…. I hope to saddle up again soon… see ya

  113. jdiggins, I had a great time too ….. keep a look out on the ” Rocky fire” ….keep us informed.. good luck to ya friend….

    • jdigggins i just back from our scouting trip. if i understand you r fixing to head out be safe have fun find it.

      • Hi Wildbirder. πŸ™‚ i just returned from a half search, if you will. I called it when it became unsafe for the kids. Besides, we weren’t doing it exactly the way we should. πŸ˜‰ So, holding til sept. (Unless we must not tarry…)
        Praying the rocky fire gets under control.
        Good luck wb! πŸ™‚

        • sorry your trip got cut short. sorry about the forrest fire too and we pray it does do to much damage. bright side if and when they let you back in to search you will not have all that pesky undergrowth to deal with. just kidding fire are terrible.

          we just got back sunday from our test trip. we found good place to stay in red river went on a long drive and found our spot to tested the area out for safety and all that stuff. if we get time going to check out wolfs bear canyon cache. we leave in mid aug.

  114. “Gonna Walk”
    Bare naked Ladies

    I’ve been sitting at the border of love,
    When dots connect and there’s an order above,
    And there is no one that can touch me,
    When it’s the same thing coming again,
    I feel I gotta say.

    I’m gonna walk,
    I won’t quit,
    Until I get,
    To the bottom of your heart.
    I’m gonna walk,
    I won’t quit,
    Until I get,
    To the bottom of your heart.
    Woah-oh oh-oh-oh-oh-oh,
    To the bottom of your hea-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-art.

    Walking hour after hour, if I could,
    Use a walking superpower, I would,
    Use it just to come and find you,
    Then it’s the slow and steady again,
    Never going away.

    Woah-oh oh-oh-oh-oh-oh,
    To the bottom of your hea-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-art,
    To the bottom of your hea-a-aa-arrrt, aa-arrrt, aa-arrrt.

    If It’s a puzzle I can solve, I’ll find a way,
    To find you, I wouldn’t mind to,
    I will muscle my resolve and every day,
    I’m walking away, I’m never gonna stray.


  115. If you’ve ever stared off into space
    Then indeed we have been
    To the very same place
    The sun filters in
    Through a peek a boo blind
    And all sorts of thoughts
    Race in the mind
    The faint sounds of modern
    Dribble behind…

    …wait, what was I talking about?
    Tee hee! Just bein silly! πŸ˜‰
    …somebody has to.

  116. YOU ARE

    By Michael D

    Seek the truth that lies within.

    Shine it up for all to see.

    The goal should not be to β€œfit in”

    But rather just to be.

    Have a dream and make it real,

    It will happen if you try.

    Passion is ability revealed,

    Do not allow desire to die.

    Giving up is a lesson learned

    From teachers that did naught.

    Determination is a lesson earned;

    Success in life self- taught.

    In the end what matters

    Is staying true to who you are.

    It’s not the finish line that flatters,

    But how you got that far.

  117. Forrest, you were naughty and moved it..again. Now put that treasure back in place in Montana lickety split – so i have reason to escape this ‘hotter than hell place’ place Texans are so dang proud of!

    ODE TO TEXAS – Author Unknown

    The devil wanted a place on Earth, Sort of a summer home
    A place to spend his vacation, whenever he wanted to roam.
    So he picked out Texas, A place both wretched and rough
    Where the climate was to his liking and the cowboys hardened and tough.
    He dried up the streams in the canyons, and ordered no rain to fall
    He dried up the lakes in the valleys, then baked and scorched it all.
    Then over his barren country, He transplanted shrubs from hell.
    The cactus, thistle and prickly pear, the climate suited them well.
    Now the home was much to his liking, but animal life, he had none.
    So he created crawling creatures that all mankind would shun.
    First he made the rattlesnake, with its forked poisonous tongue.
    Taught it to strike and rattle and how to swallow its young.
    Then he made scorpions and lizards and the ugly old horned toad.
    He placed spiders of every description, under rocks by the side of the road.
    Then he ordered the sun to shine hotter, Hotter and hotter still.
    Until even the cactus wilted and the old horned lizard took ill.
    Then he gazed on his earthly kingdom, as any creator would
    He chuckled a little up his sleeve and admitted that he’d done good.
    ‘Twas summer now and Satan lay, by a prickly pear to rest.
    The sweat rolled off his swarthy brow, so he took off his coat and vest.
    ‘By Golly, ‘ he finally panted, ‘I did my job too well,
    I’m going back to where I came from, ‘cuz Texas is hotter than Hell.’
    Author unknown

    • Tell him to stop moving it so I can return that bracelet or he could just keep it for himself but that would defeet the purpose of course.

        • Lianerg, Forrest moved the TC to the trunk of his new 35 Plymouth Bullet…he’s testing out those new $624@ white walls…doing it tired…checking out how far is too far to walk. Peggy is wearing my emerald ring eating a burger and popcorn at the Arcadia. Forrest is paying for the movie tickets with a double eagle rather than his two dollar bill.

          • That’s funny! Sometimes I do feel like he moves it πŸ™‚ I think he may also be using the Klondikes as a door stopper in the home of brown where he is going on vacation to after watching the rerelease of “The Fox and the Hound”!

    • 42 i am sorry i didn’t know or remember you are from the furnace state. we are in the n. tx area and we are leaving on aug 13 to go search. where are you at in tx and where do you like to search.

      • Enjoy your family search Wildbirder. I also live in n tx (21 yrs) but my is home is Montana. I was raised hiking, camping, fishing on the Gallatin and Madison Rivers. Our family walked, drove or hiked much of the L&C trail. Thirty years after Forrest’s childhood, mine was ironically quite similar including a weekend log cabin without running water.

        I’ve searched 9 times in Osborn Russel’s mountains of Montana and once in Wyoming as a favor to another searcher. My solving and searching are finished, but I think we came close due to circumstantial evidence in an email from f.

        I truly Wish you and yours a birds’s eye view of the chest… Or at least an adventure. Where does your solution land you with BOG?

        • thank you for reminding me where you live. i have problems with my memory. we will be staying in Red River to be near a couple of places David visited as a child and where his parent use to visit. we picked red river to give grand son a few things to do between searches. so i hope this answers your question. i am bringing waders, hiking boots, two pairs of tennies. hubby and i have tons of cooking and packing to do.

  118. I’m looking for that rainbow that Forrest calls his own. I know its out there somewhere, next to the Treasure Zone. It starts where warm waters halt and ends up by the chest, and the only way to get there is to pass that 9 clue test. My journey starts in 10 more days, I know just where to start, but since it is to far to walk, I’ll drive right to his heart.

    • Nah. I did see her name on her and thought it was rather curious, I guess I am the male version of her. Was she funny? Anyways, this is a poetry page so here go:

      What am I?

      With every passing day
      The sun has gone away
      I spend my time at night
      Remaining what I liked

      In this simple line
      It winds away the time
      Beneath more pleasures lie
      Above the creatures die

      To spend my time like this
      In one infinite prose
      A shadow of my past
      Frozen in a grasp

      Then I see the sun again
      And on their faces they do grin
      To discover me for who I am
      And then the sun does go away again

  119. Salute to Fenn’s Warriors

    Dedicated to Peggy, Kelly & Zoe – true hero’s

    Those with faith are endowed with power to rise above troubles. Wings of faith are required to soar with breadth of view. “They shall mount up with wings as eagles.” Isaiah 40:31

    The little bird sat on a slender limb,
    Upward swinging,
    And though wind and rain were rough with him,
    Still kept singing.
    “O little bird, quick, seek out your nest!”
    I could not keep from calling;
    “The bleak winds tear your tender breast,
    Your tiny feet are falling.”
    “More need for song
    When things go wrong,
    I was not meant for crying;
    No fear in me,”
    He piped with glee,
    “My wings were made for flying!”

    My heart had been dark as the stormy sky
    In my sorrow,
    With the weight of troubles long passed by,
    And the morrow.
    “O little bird, Sing!” I cried one more,
    “The sun will soon be shining.
    See, there’s a rainbow arching o’er
    The storm cloud’s sliver lining.”
    I, too, will sing through everything;
    I will teach blessing double;
    Nor yet forget.
    When rude winds fret,
    To fly above my trouble. — Author unknown

    Wing-power gives us the gift of soaring and long-sightedness.

  120. How brightly shine
    the stars in the sky.

    Swoop down and kiss
    the dreamer’s eye.

    Giving hope to the handΒ 
    that opens wide.

    And direction to the lostΒ 
    that need a guide.Β 

    • Hi keri. Are you new to the chase? Is this your work? Well done and welcome! πŸ™‚

    • Thats lovely Keri. I think I’ll keep your poem in mind when I visit the stars tonight. They are so calming aren’t they?

  121. Somewhere, there is a most sacred place.
    It lies hidden and impossible to find,
    Yet I know just where it is…
    Burned into the quiet of my mind.

    It’s a place where the softest of whispers
    Seems much too murderously loud
    And where one can find blessed peace,
    But two just finds a crowd.

    The Master of this Place has a name,
    And that is the riddle you must solve,
    His secret name you’ll never find,
    The name from which his other names evolve.

    Find that name by trickery, or asking why?
    I really don’t know the way,
    But find it and he will give you the key
    To the sacred grove that day.

    How do you find an unsearchable name?
    It’s much harder than naming a cat.
    Internet is of no use, and neither is a map,
    The poem will have to suffice for that.

    By Mindy, while thinking on The Naming of Cats, by TS Eliot.

  122. Thank you, yes I wrote it. My husband is nearIndianaJones, he’s been searching for a bit. I had just started researching recently.

  123. think abstract,
    like forrest and you will see
    a brown of relevance, perfection and feel,
    or bounce,
    from one clue to the next.
    don’t languish on one
    or down the garden path you go

    forrest is a joker you see
    taking the piss out of the foolish,
    out of you and me.

    but once you latch on to how he thinks,
    if you are crazy and have confidence

    you might be able to solve
    this genius riddle

    or at least down to 2 football pitches in size
    then use your imagination………
    but best of all……
    be wise……………..
    several times

  124. ” Close Knit Family ”

    Life Has many different meanings , to those who walk this earth,

    Is it time for you ponder , where you truly place your worth?

    Not To fix on shiny things , things you can not see , it’s

    About the life around you , and your close knit family.

    The time may come for you someday, for you to look and see,

    Treasures bold just sitting there , waiting to see your glee.

    You traveled many many miles, and life is passing by,

    Seek yourself deep down inside, it never hurts to try,

    It’s the feeling within your heart, where the treasures truly lay,

    About the way you live your life , until that final day.

    The life you live upon this earth , reflects the way you die,

    Treasures are there for everyone , who gives an honest try.

    You have one tool within your chest , dig deep and you will see,

    Have faith in God , and thank him for , your close knit family………………

    Read down the first word in every sentence of this poem , It readsΒ 

    ” Life is not about the treasures you seek , it’s about the

    Treasures you have ”

    By : Focused

    • You have a gift for hitting the target right in the bullseye, Focused. πŸ™‚ That is Brilliant! I Love It!

      • Thanks JC1117 , glad you liked my words..maybe I should aim towards indulgence….lol…… Good luck to ya…:-)

      • Your welcome Cat cut , thank you for your kind remarks…..good luck to ya in the chase….

      • Thanks CindyM , while on your chase , don’t forget your real treasures….there are some things money can’t buy….good to hear from ya.. Good luck in the chase…see ya πŸ™‚

    • I enjoyed your poem very much Focussed, and it helped me with a decision. I am blessed with a close family – a treasure no one should ever take for granted. Selfishly, i was hoping to travel to sf for the book event, but my close knit family is sick of the chase. Out of love for them, I’ll spend the money instead on something my family can enjoy together. Thanks for the gift of truth spoken here tonight.

      • Thanks lia , I believe you have made the perfect decision. No one should ever put the chase over their family. I know That is not what Forrest would want. If possible include them in the chase too. Treasures enjoyed with family is priceless… Glad you liked my words lia , hold your head high, and feel proud of your decision. And have fun with your family, until we meet on the trails of the chase ….see ya…… And good luck….. πŸ™‚

        • 23kachinas – wish I could “dile Emma” she was my favorite grandmother and it would be sweet to hear her voice again.
          Just playing with words. No real dilemma, my family is a blessing – time to roast s’mores over my pile of TOTC research and enjoy my family. They all gave the chase a try and allowed me latitude. In the end they simply arrived at a correct resolve before I did. Best to you 23

          • I’ve spent my time chasing and tramping around bravely in the woods.

            Now the treasures I seek are smiles of those around me, close in proximity and feeling good.

            Best to you too Lia


    • Focused can draw a handful of words out of a hat and add a little magic and walaa! A masterpiece!
      You are a treasure yourself focused! πŸ™‚

      • Thanks Jdiggins , maybe I should take the nine clues , and add a little magic , who knows ? Might just walaa! A masterpiece…..gonna go try………….see ya πŸ™‚

      • Thanks 23kachinas , I’ve been told that I have the “talking” gene bred into me. I come by it honest….. πŸ™‚ . keep having fun in the chase… until next time…. see ya….

    • Thanks Straw Shadow , that’s the most wow’s I have ever got… Enjoy ” your ” treasures ….glad you like it…. See ya ……….

  125. “Old Top Hat”

    On a sheet of paper, written down , the poem of Forrest Fenn,

    Line by line , I cut it up , in strips and threw it in.

    An old top hat , that I had found , many years ago,

    Added in some potion, and stirred it very slow.

    Soon the bubbles started rising, slowly to the top,

    The magic book I’m reading from, say’s stir and do not stop.

    Just a little longer, the smoke began to rise,

    From the old top hat, that holds the clues , burnt my watering eyes.

    The magic book now tells me, to slowly let it cool.

    I hope this really works for me , if not , I look a fool.

    Fingers crossed , hopes are high , no telling what I’d see,

    An hour later, which seemed to me, like eternity.

    The time has come to strain my mix, and let magic do the trick,

    I stirred it one last final time, with my wooden stick.

    I strained it off , to my surprise, the strips, what the heck ?

    I felt my hair begin to rise, at the bottom of my neck.

    All the strips, joined as one , in the bottom of the hat,

    Folded up , unharmed at all , if you can believe in that.

    I reached inside the old top hat, grabbed the folded sheet,

    Wondered what I’d see inside, victory or defeat?

    Unfolded that piece of paper, that once held the clues of Fenn,

    Dropped my head, closed my eyes ….. it read

    ” Warm Water Halts where you begin”

    By : Focused

    Well Jdiggins, the word thing didn’t work, I guess I’ll have to start

    at the beginning…… good luck to you………

    • That was totally awesome, focused! Thanks for the big grin on my face! πŸ™‚
      You amaze me. πŸ™‚

      • Your welcome Jdiggins…. anything for a friend…. have a good day…. see ya πŸ™‚

      • Thanks CindyM , hey, my magic book is out of date. That may be the problem….lol Oh well I guess I have to do it the old fashion way and figure out the clues…. lol all in fun…… see ya.. πŸ™‚

    • Yep , it’s true Betsy…… we all know where to start, we just have a hard time deciding where to end……lol Good luck to ya in the chase…. πŸ™‚

    • Sorry straw shadow , didn’t mean to scare ya….. I chose the ” theme” of the poem to coincide with what Jdiggins said just before the “Top Hat” poem. no harm intended just having a little fun with Jdiggins…… Glad to hear to normally like my prose….. thanks for all your previous comments on my poems…… good luck to ya in the chase…… until next time…… see ya……

  126. Still Life

    If I could stop time, in a moment of selfishness,
    To keep those I hold dear by my side,
    Perhaps I wouldn’t feel such helplessness
    And it would be easier to enjoy the ride.

    I’ve seen the coming and going of life, so profound,
    And I’ve spent time with my family and friends.
    Though I try to hold on as the clock counts down,
    I know each life on this earth must end.

    So why can’t my life synchronize with those
    That I’ve come to love so dearly?
    I’d have more time with them, I suppose,
    Then the thought of growing old might cheer me.

    Still I try to be there for those that I love
    To share the treasures I have deep inside
    And I thank the good Lord up above
    For allowing me the thrill of the ride-CM

    • Bravo CindyM !!!! Loved it…..giving thanks where thanks is due.. amazing…. enjoy your ride….. keep up the great penning.. see ya friend…..

      • Thanks Focused,,, that countdown clock put me in a pensive mood. I feel much better now,,, πŸ™‚

  127. ” A Single Tear ”

    In a Β teepee , On a desert Mesa , in a dry an arid land,

    The chief he softly talks to spirits , while raising up his hand.

    Praying for the mighty peace Β , to rest upon his people ,

    Spaniards came into their lands , forced prayer on Spanish steeples.

    Before the jingle , of silver spurs , came into their space ,

    The Indian of the desert Mesa , roamed this beautiful place.

    High upon a pointed cliff , they would sit with inner peace ,

    Now they rarely leave the sight , of their elder chief.

    The spaniards came in numbers , slowly taking over their lands ,

    Many a braves blood has spilt , across these arid sands .

    The spirit has spoken to the chief , words carried in the wind,

    ” Your fighting a mighty battle , I know you cannot win”

    The chief he raises to his feet , walks out the teepee door ,

    Calls a meeting of all man , says ” we will fight no more”.

    Braves , squaws and little ones , sat quiet in their space,

    They saw a single tear swell up , roll down the ole chiefs face.

    The chief he turns and walks away , no other word was said,

    Back into his teepee , lays on his deer skin bed.

    From that day on they followed, the dictates of white man,

    But not a drop , of Indian blood , has dripped upon the sand.

    Choices that the old chief made , were very hard to do ,

    But maybe there’s a lesson here , for the likes of me and you.

    Sometimes we should swallow pride , for the benefit of others,

    All of us now share these lands , so therefore we are brothers.

    Next time you are faced , with the decision of war or peace,

    Remember that one single tear , that rolled down an old chiefs face….

    By: Focused

  128. It’s late here ,so I’m turning in for the night……….Jdiggins you said in your poem there’s today and tomorrow…..well , I’m done for today , I will talk to you tomorrow……lol……night all……zzzzzzzzzz

  129. This my favorite page! Lots of great poetry! Thanks to all of the contributors.

  130. “Old Oak Tree”

    There comes a time, when all things must end,

    Leaves begin falling , from an old oak tree.

    Never to re-bloom , when the springtime begins,

    No autumn colors, bright shining to see.

    Standing there fragile, though once it was sound,

    Strong winds they shake, it’s limbs all about.

    They crack and pop, then fall to the ground,

    The lonely old oak , is on it’s way out.

    Soon there’ll be nothing, a stump where it stands,

    No display of colors , softly waving about.

    The bark is all falling, it’s turning to sands,

    Once the oak tree, was healthy and stout.

    My memories of , an oak that once stood,

    Will always bring, a smile to my face.

    Beautiful, bold, my memories in wood,

    Grand as a “New Sprig” , that grows in it’s place…….


      • Thanks CindyM , sometimes I feel like the “old oak tree” in the chase..I’ve hit a big stump and can’t seem to get around it…..I’ve made twenty trips so far , and my leaves are turning colors…. Glad you like my words CindyM…….good luck to ya

        • Thank you, cindym. πŸ™‚
          These just spew out of ur brain, down ur arm, through your fingertips, and wala! There it is! Amazing, as always, focused. But, I have not yet looked back in time; I seem to recall verse similar…
          Nonetheless, godbless! Keep them coming. I don’t go much for the older poetry, and it is difficult unless you have the mindset…
          My mindset is happy here. πŸ™‚

  131. The table is set
    The hand is dealt
    Cards and chips
    Elbows and felt
    Cigar smoke slithers
    through the air
    The first bet dithers
    Neath smoky air
    The ante grows
    As the game endures
    Still nobody knows
    Not for sures
    In and out
    A revolving door
    Another bout
    Back for more
    The tournament of fools
    And genius mind
    There are no rules
    Just a chest to find
    You get four
    Cards and a joker
    Nothing more
    In this game of poker
    Like it or not
    Win or lose
    You’re in for the lot
    Led by nine clues

    good luck! πŸ™‚

  132. Good job jdiggins…… I liked your poem…. lets see what I can come up with…. good luck to ya friend…

  133. ” Friendly Poker ”

    I sat at the table, surrounded by friends,

    Cards are all dealt, let the bluffing begin.

    All faces kept straight, not cracking a smile,

    All wanting the pot, out there in a pile.

    I have four cards, and a joker of one,

    I’m not gonna show it, till the betting’s all done.

    Each player they bet, or check when it comes,

    Their time to act, not showing their runs.

    The ” flop ” has been shown, all bets are thrown down,

    Next is the ” turn ” card, I’m showing a frown.

    Other’s they notice, the look on my face,

    They think I have nothing, the betting they ” raise “.

    Two pair that I hold, and a joker of one,

    I’m matching their bets , not showing my fun.

    Some players have folded, two still remain,

    The ” river ” card lands, last round of the game.

    This time I bet , I could see in their eyes,

    I push ” all in ” , Their look of surprise.

    One player ” folded “, the other pushed too,

    Now , let’s show the cards, starting with you.

    A ” straight ” of five cards, ending in king,

    I then show my ” full house ” , my grin how it rings.

    I drag the pot, with both hands as I say,

    Listen real closely , It’ll help you someday.

    In the game of poker, a frown goes a mile,

    In the game of life , reversed , It’s a SMILE………. πŸ™‚

    By: Focused

  134. So focused has won
    His round with a house
    But he forgot one thing
    I have a pet mouse
    He runs at our feet
    Under the table
    and he sneaks a peek
    Whenever he’s able
    He’s a good little buddy
    With mad mad skills
    He’ll get his feet muddy
    Cuz he loves the thrills
    So back to the game
    He gives me a snicker
    My fortune and fame
    Could come a lot quicker
    See this time I’m not in a rush
    And my buddy knows it
    I’ve got a royal flush
    anywayz ya throwz it!

    • I’ve seen your mouse, on my shoulder at times,

      Smiling and happy, And talking in rhymes.

      Though I didn’t understand, a word that he said,

      I’m sure you know , cause your face is all red.

      Off of my shoulder, quickly he ran,

      Over to you, to tell you my hand.

      Jdiggins you hold, a straight that is flush,

      Royal , of course, and keeping it hush.

      So, this time I fold, your mouse makes me scared,

      Throwing away , my sevens are paired.

      So next time you send, your mouse on the race,

      Try to hold back, the blush on your face.

      This time it cost you, the pot is still small,

      If not for your mouse, Ida given it all.

      My other three cards, were all of the same,

      This time your mouse , has cost you your fame.

      Lets deal them again , all cards anew,

      Nothing like poker, with friends such as you……

      “DEAL ME IN !”


    • There’s a mouse in the house,,,
      He’s running amuck

      Bringing focused and jdiggins all kinds of luck!

      Soon I realize why I’m losing my dough

      There’s a rodent snitch in the room
      Wouldn’t you know?

      I stay in the game with a grin on my face

      Soon I’ll catch that darned mouse
      It’s the thrill of the chase.

      • CindyM,

        I’ve tried, and I’ve tried, to catch that old mouse,

        Who’s snitching our hands, to some in this house.

        He’s lively and quick, as fast as a rocket,

        From now on I’ll play , with a trap in each pocket.

        I’m playing my hand , while looking about,

        eeeks there’s a mouse, a player soon shouts.

        I lean back my chair, all playing it stops,

        Then all of a sudden , There was a loud POP !

        The mouse was fast, not waiting to linger,

        I raise up my hand, with a trap on my finger.

        Oh how it hurts, the pain that it sends,

        Small price to pay, for Poker with friends…….

  135. Poker Face

    As I sit at the table and I’m dealt two cards,
    I greet all my friends with warm regards.

    Yay! My hole cards are a pair of aces!!!
    I look all around and see stoney faces.

    Though every one else wears designer shades,
    My eyes dance with excitement, no need for charades.

    The “flop” has an ace!!! I let loose a giggle.
    I cover my mouth but my leg starts to wiggle.

    Please, please, please ,,, πŸ™‚ I murmur out loud,,,
    And gasp at the “turn”, then give a nod to the crowd.

    The Joker shows up as if on cue.
    I jump out of my seat, what else is there to do?

    The “river” comes up, my face is aglow.
    The final ace is exposed, wouldn’t you know?

    I glance at the pot, but where’s all the money?
    Several have folded, no raises, how funny!

    Fun is where you find it, I think with a grin
    As I wait for the next hand to begin.

    For what good is a game without fun and laughter?
    It’s the pot of happiness that I’m after πŸ™‚

    Whatever I’m dealt I’ll never fold ’em
    For I’m Texas born and this is Texas Hold ’em.

  136. In the midst of our game
    I left the table
    But it wasn’t my fault
    Some jerk stole the cable!
    And I wanted to say
    Had a blast yesterday
    With focused and cindy
    And my little mouse indy
    Cept he ran away
    But that’s okay
    I never liked cheaters anyway!

          • You are all amazing you ding a lings and your poetry is truely sublime…
            Thank you for sharing…
            Y’all should really write a book…! πŸ™‚

  137. We all search for a beautiful bronze box hidden by a man
    His name is well known to us it is Forrest Fenn
    He filled this box with treasure and his gold,
    In hopes that someone would figure out his secret never told
    We read his poem and his books over and over just to make sure there is nothing we overlooked
    There’s Google earth and even maps if it isn’t found we always go back
    Someday it will all come to an end when someone figures out the secret of FORREST FENN.

  138. Indy, you’ll Google Earth and see
    Is what indulgence says to me.
    I don’t know what it says to you
    I’m guessing the same thing too.
    But you have to open your mind
    Or the secrets you won’t find…
    What happened to tarzan, I wonder?
    Did indulgence steal his thunder?
    Hop on board the train of thought
    Cuz you play whether you like it or not!

    Just rambling again.

  139. I tried to think
    Of something special to say
    But I stink
    At forcing words into play

    It was years past fourteen
    That fateful morn
    The worst most of us had ever seen
    Lives were torn

    Many were lost
    Casualties of war
    A terrible cost
    And what for?

    To all who lost something that day
    There’s no words to take it away

    May God bless…that’s all I can say.

  140. ” Golden Wings of 9/11 ”

    Today the bell of freedom rings , for all our loved ones lost ,

    Today we remember the price , paid for an evil cost.

    Why did it happen ?, what was the reason ?, questions alway’s ask,

    Answers we may never know , Lost forever in the past.

    Now a mighty monument stands , forever in it’s place,

    To remind us of their mighty smiles , they wore upon their face.

    Husbands , wives , sons and daughters , Loved down to the core ,

    Brother’s , sister’s , aunt’s and uncles , loved forever more.

    Take the time to pause today , let silence fill your ears ,

    Remember those whom on this day , left us with our tears.

    For they are in a better place , Β forever to behold ,

    Flying with our ” God ” above , over the streets of gold.

    Some day we will join them , in that mighty golden place ,

    To see their shining golden smiles , upon their golden face.

    Until that day , honor those , Β who left on 9/11,

    For now they fly on angel wings, forever with ” God ” in heaven…………….

    I dedicate this poem to each and every person who lost a loved one
    On 9/11/01……. My prayer’s are with you……

    By: Focused

    • Pandora’s Twins
      “The Over Thinkers”

      Solution’s Voice
      grips my head;
      Resolution’s vice
      like a weight of lead.
      Cavorting together,
      They sneak on in;
      Give me a whirl,
      And make my
      head Spin!

      A cheekier pair
      Do not exist.
      The spin in
      their voice
      reads like this:

      Appealing to my internal voice,
      The noisy twins say, ‘Make a choice’.
      They confirm a win;
      Then snatch it back,
      Ring logic’s din,
      Leave my sails slack.

      Is the home of Brown
      really brown;
      Or just a rown field
      neath the Butler’s ground?

      Are there words
      inside of words,
      New meanings
      Or does messing
      with the poem
      throw logic in the heather?

      If it’s all in the poem,
      must your
      imagination roam?
      Are you a
      deep thinker,
      Should intelligence loam?

      Must you meld
      three solutions,
      Or nine for that matter?
      Will knowing Spanish & German
      raise my stakes
      on fortunes ladder?

      Will keeping it
      simple & straight
      Be the keys
      through Fenn’s gate?
      Is there a hidden message or
      Equinox date?

      When common sense finally prevails;
      I lace up my boots,
      Ignore the twins
      And strike the trail.

      Deep in my heart
      the sun is shining.
      For a moment
      in the meadow,
      peace is pining.

      Suddenly, I hear
      the twin’s chatter.
      Try to ignore them
      What could it matter?

      Trouncing on my thoughts, bouncing in my head,
      They stir up a tempest where
      Logic and reason
      aren’t wed.

      Their bold whispers
      Set sail once more.
      Does Fenn’s trove elude you?
      Or is it lore?

      Confirmation voice?
      Ha! Not in my brain.
      Pandora’s relentless
      twins are screaming, THINK,THINK again!

      • Good job 42 …….I need a conformation too…maybe I should THINK more……good luck to ya in the chase…

        • Focused… Yes, you should think more because your thinking is lovely… Thank you for all the beautiful prose… πŸ™‚

          • Your welcome spallies, and thank you for your kind comment. I’m glad you liked my words, have a great day spallies..until next time ….see ya…

            P.s. follow your heart and let it lead , your journey day to day.

            Spallies if you do this, many pleasures will come your way.

            Just one life is all we got, give your bell a ring,

            Then looking back, old and gray ,not wishing to change a thing…..

      • 42 – you’ve got a way with words. I’ll toast my first sip of vodka to you while wearing my diamond tie on Sept 14th.

  141. Sorry, I’ve been away
    Came back to say
    That was awesome 42
    Hope to hear more from you
    Focused you’re always on task
    And in your prose we basque
    Spallies is always here to cheer
    It wouldn’t be the same without her here
    Cindym puts the words out mean
    And always from me a smile glean
    Now me I have issues with reception
    No really, no deception
    See I live in a forest oh yes
    You could say I’m lucky I guess
    Perhaps it was meant to be
    That the chase would find me!

    Leaving at 6 am for santa fe! πŸ™‚
    Tee hee hee!

    • I wish I could be there to meet and greet you all,,, give Forrest and DaL an extra big hug and tell them it’s from CindyM in Texas.

      Nice poem jdiggins. Thanks πŸ™‚

    • Have fun jdiggins…wish I could be there to meet everyone too….tell Forrest Focused said hello…I guess me and CindyM will just have to sit and wait for a report from ya……..have a blast…see ya

    • Loved it Jdiggins!

      Have a great time at Forrests book signing and the searcher party! Take photos and post a fun report for us to enjoy vicariously.

      • 42, searcher party? I know of the Autograph party. This search party would like to know where the search party will be.

  142. Pieces of 9/11 (9/12 and Beyond)

    Picking up all the pieces
    Of that horrific day long ago
    That left the country speechless
    The story we all know

    Pieces of families shattered
    Dear ones taken away too soon
    Thousands of lives that mattered
    Dead and missing, on memorials festooned

    Pieces of twin tower rubble
    That volunteers sifted through with hope
    Though breathing and labor was troubling
    Somehow they managed to cope

    Pieces of a five sided building
    The lives lost there, utterly senseless
    Our military remained unyielding
    Though evil tried to render us defenseless

    Pieces of baggage and a jet plane
    That littered a gaping Shanksville hole
    Where the cry of heroic men slain
    Could be heard as they fought, “Let’s roll!!”

    Now pieces of that dark day in September
    Have found a place in the new tower so grand
    Where a beam of light shines as a reminder
    Of the resilience of those in this land

    • CindyM…Wonderful poem!…Enjoyed it immensely…We should never forget!…

      Here’s one I wrote Sept. 25, 2001…I witnessed the tragedy across the river from the roof of Terminal ‘C’, Newark Int’l Airport…It was my birthday…Hope you like it…

      Tragic Futility: The Day the Sky Fell

      September eleven two thousand one,
      Day of my birth in year fifty- two;
      Morning not started when day came undone,
      Unspeakable horror upon the city new.

      Down from a sky clear blue,
      Wing-ed death with blasting fire;
      In the hour the twins noble knew
      Eternity in acrid pyre.

      Evil in the choking dark,
      Billowing roil of hot wind blow
      Peace from the lower park,
      In wailing and fear to crescendo.

      Foundations were shaken
      To the bedrock of freedom known.
      Innocence was taken
      In souls to the heavens flown.

      A scorched clearing in Penn’s woods
      Scarred by the actions of the brave,
      Evidenced that certain heroes stood
      Defending honor to the grave.

      A fifth of the wheel broken
      Near a river of history fair;
      Now rise the eagle unspoken,
      Lift the skies up, up into the air.

      A pox upon the king
      Of terror and hatred belief;
      Out from hell’s fires spring
      Anger, destruction, vengeful grief.

      Nations rattle sabers of war
      To the din and crying of blood for blood;
      May God preserve us lest the door
      Be closed on peace against the flood.

      From the annals of history, out of the past,
      In the tales and sagas of those gone before;
      Are voices repeating of breath to the last-
      “Never, never again ever, nevermore.”

      • Very touching, samsmith! πŸ™

        I have a daughter and a sister-in-law with that same birthdate.

        The Lord bless you!

      • Sad to know it happened on your birthday ssmsmith. Thanks for posting your wonderful poem.

        It’s hard to believe there are people out there who would do harm just because.

  143. “Old Home Place”

    Sunlight beams , through leaves of gold,

    Brisk in air , chilly and cold .

    Remote I Β stand , near tales of old,

    Silence here , no stories told.

    Rocks that rise , unto the sky ,

    No smell of smoke , just lonely I .

    Forest floor , with raging vine,

    Taking over , through midst of time.

    Vines to cover , the rocks of home ,

    Time did win , now all is gone.

    Circle of rock , of old open well,

    Bucket of rust , decayed where it fell.

    Silence it soothes Β , my heart as I roam,

    At an old place , my ancestors called home.

    Sun sets lower , with each passing minute ,

    Chill is much colder , but proud that I’m in it.

    I leave with feeling , whole once again ,

    Replenished by family , ancestors of kin .

    Before I leave , this place that I roam,

    Thanks to my family , for calling me home.

    The sun is now set , dark moving in fast ,

    Please take the time , to visit your past.

    Your heart wont regret it , not for a minute ,

    Let the past come alive , let family back in it.

    In silent repose , your old home place Β waits ,

    For you to come visit , with smile on your face.

    Dark is now here , a single owl hoots,

    Replenish your soul , go visit your roots…………..


  144. CindyM,
    Β Β  Β That’s ok, I knew what you meant.

    ” All hearts they have a tiny string,

    For which to tug from time to time.

    Pull yours Cindy and let it sing ,

    Then write it down in form ofΒ 



  145. Plum Tree …
    Plum tree symbolism represents sweet anticipation of promises and rewards of something one has waited for.

    For poet Lin Bu of the Song Dynasty, the flower was more than a symbol, but a friend and soul mate. His famous verses about the plum blossom have passed down through the generations:

    All flowers have withered, you alone blossom,
    occupying the focal scenery of the small garden.
    Delicate branches cast shadows aslant over clear shallow water;
    secret fragrance floats lightly in the moonlit dusk.

      • JC1117

        ~,=,^> β€’*T*β€’

        knows the key…
        His nose
        sniffs the
        for delicious aromas
        floating beneath
        plum trees.

        Simple pleasures…
        It’s a dog’s life!

  146. hi folks i am not good at writing poems but gave me a song to kill and i do so-so. also i didn’t not have anyone on or off the blog in mind when i used a certain line so please don’t get upset. i am not calling anyone names just using what rhythms and having fun.

    Sung to John Lennon’s Lyrics Revolution

    You say you want Mister Fenn’s treasure chest.
    Well, you know we all wanna find the chest
    You tell me it’s about the ciphers
    Well, you know we all wanna find the chest

    But when you talk numbers
    Don’t you know that you can count me out

    Don’t you know it’s gonna be alright, alright
    Don’t you know it’s gonna be alright
    You say you got a real solution
    Well, you know we’d all love to see the plan, oh yeah
    You ask me for a conclusion
    Well, you know we’re all doing what we can

    But if you want help from people with minds that think
    All I can tell you is, don’t ask missing links

    Don’t you know it’s gonna be alright
    Know it’s gonna be alright
    Don’t you know it’s gonna be alright, hey, hey
    You say you’ll change Mr. Fenn’s poem
    Well, you know we all wanna change your solve
    You tell me it’s in the Fenn’s tome
    Well, you know you better find a good resolve

    So you can go searching for T C of Forrest Fenn
    You ain’t gonna find it until you begin

    Don’t you know it’s gonna be alright
    To know it’s gonna be alright
    Know it’s gonna be alright
    Oh, alright, alright, alright
    Alright, alright, alright

  147. Over, under, up and around
    Twelve times with boots on the ground
    But that doesn’t matter to me
    Not in the scope of reality
    Cold, warm, easy or not
    From it all, gained a lot
    Coming home empty handed
    Twice past ten
    it’s my heart that’s stranded
    In that place again
    All I would like
    To do
    Is take a hike
    Find ending clue…

    ….that’s indulgence
    Case you didn’t knew! πŸ™‚

  148. Old Blazes by Paul Croy (1937)

    Old blazes guide a man again
    on trails unused and overgrown
    With newer growth, that hides
    the once familiar way.

    And so these thoughts recorded here,
    before today dims yesterday,
    Are blazes on forgotten trails
    of memory.

  149. ” Virgo Stars ”

    Late into a Virgo night , fresh grass beneath my head,

    Just gazing at the stars above, no single word is said.

    Cause on a dark and starry night , a mind can travel vast,

    To the long forgotten times, you cherished in the past.

    The sliver of a crescent moon, shines softly in the east,

    The banquet table of my thoughts, filled with this starry feast.

    At least a billion stars I see, bright shining in the night,

    Each on has a purpose, while showing off it’s light.

    My mind it drifts back to a time, when I was only ten,

    Wishing I was sixteen, how little I knew back then.

    Then when I was sixteen, I wished for twenty-one,

    Cause that’s when it was legal, to have adult like fun.

    Now I gaze into the stars, and many years have passed,

    Now I wish for time to slow, and not to go so fast.

    Just laying here , looking up, into the sparkling sky,

    A shooting star, with tail so bright, went shooting quickly by.

    I know I’m granted just one wish, upon a shooting star,

    It doesn’t take me long at all, for what I’m wishing for.

    I close my eyes, to make my wish, upon this starry night,

    Silence still surrounds me, my thoughts will be alright.

    I wish for all the ten year old’s , all across these lands,

    Don’t wish away your childhood, enjoy it while you can.

    Cause someday in the Virgo stars, you’ll gaze into the night,

    And cherish those childhood memories, riding on your huffy bike……..

    By: Focused

  150. How beautiful Focused !!! I’m glad I’m still awake to enjoy your poem. I know it will bring peaceful dreams, thank you πŸ™‚

    • Thanks CindyM , I hope you had peaceful dreams…try not to live to fast……….glad you liked it….see ya…..

  151. Hey folks, I had read this before and thought it was awesome… So I cut and pasted… perhaps there’s a clue here??? Bonnie Parker wrote two poems while she and Clyde Barrow were on the run from the law. This poem, the Story of Bonnie and Clyde, was the second of the two. (The first poem is “The Story of Suicide Sal.”) Bonnie wrote this poem while she and Clyde were running from the law. Bonnie gave a copy of the poem to her mother just weeks before both Bonnie and Clyde were gunned down.

    By Jennifer Rosenberg, 20th Century History Expert

    The Story of Bonnie and Clyde

    You’ve read the story of Jesse James
    Of how he lived and died;
    If you’re still in need
    Of something to read,
    Here’s the story of Bonnie and Clyde.

    Now Bonnie and Clyde are the Barrow gang,
    I’m sure you all have read
    How they rob and steal
    And those who squeal
    Are usually found dying or dead.

    There’s lots of untruths to these write-ups;
    They’re not so ruthless as that;
    Their nature is raw;
    They hate all the law
    The stool pigeons, spotters, and rats.

    They call them cold-blooded killers;
    They say they are heartless and mean;
    But I say this with pride,
    That I once knew Clyde
    When he was honest and upright and clean.

    But the laws fooled around,
    Kept taking him down
    And locking him up in a cell,
    Till he said to me,
    “I’ll never be free,
    So I’ll meet a few of them in hell.”

    The road was so dimly lighted;
    There were no highway signs to guide;
    But they made up their minds
    If all roads were blind,
    They wouldn’t give up till they died.

    The road gets dimmer and dimmer;
    Sometimes you can hardly see;
    But it’s fight, man to man,
    And do all you can,
    For they know they can never be free.

    From heart-break some people have suffered;
    From weariness some people have died;
    But take it all in all,
    Our troubles are small
    Till we get like Bonnie and Clyde.

    If a policeman is killed in Dallas,
    And they have no clue or guide;
    If they can’t find a fiend,
    They just wipe their slate clean
    And hand it on Bonnie and Clyde.

    There’s two crimes committed in America
    Not accredited to the Barrow mob;
    They had no hand
    In the kidnap demand,
    Nor the Kansas City depot job.

    A newsboy once said to his buddy;
    “I wish old Clyde would get jumped;
    In these awful hard times
    We’d make a few dimes
    If five or six cops would get bumped.”

    The police haven’t got the report yet,
    But Clyde called me up today;
    He said, “Don’t start any fights
    We aren’t working nights
    We’re joining the NRA.”

    From Irving to West Dallas viaduct
    Is known as the Great Divide,
    Where the women are kin,
    And the men are men,
    And they won’t “stool” on Bonnie and Clyde.

    If they try to act like citizens
    And rent them a nice little flat,
    About the third night
    They’re invited to fight
    By a sub-gun’s rat-tat-tat.

    They don’t think they’re too tough or desperate,
    They know that the law always wins;
    They’ve been shot at before,
    But they do not ignore
    That death is the wages of sin.

    Some day they’ll go down together;
    And they’ll bury them side by side;
    To few it’ll be grief
    To the law a relief
    But it’s death for Bonnie and Clyde.

    — Bonnie Parker

    • Bonnie and Clyde are two birds of a feather,
      Together they ride side by side.

      Though they’ve only been mine for a very short time,
      They seem happy in the cage they reside.

      To separate one from the other,
      The other one surely will die.
      And so they live on, just singing their song,
      My little parrots, Bonnie and Clyde πŸ™‚

  152. Thanks ftmarksbs,,,really interesting and fun. And historical

    Glad to see you posting πŸ™‚

  153. The poet J.Hamilton Haynes may have visited Forrest’s back yard.

    Voices from the pine-grove,
    Where the pheasant’s drumming,
    Voices front the ferny hills
    Alive with insect humming;
    Voices low and sweet
    From the far-off stream,
    Where two rivulets meet
    With the murmur of a dream;
    Voices loud and free
    Front every bush and tree,

  154. ” Fate of Bonnie and Clyde ”

    During the ” Great Depression “, many prayed for a better tomorrow,

    But not the ones named Bonnie Parker, and her ruthless friend Clyde Barrow.

    A couple of outlaw Texans, who robbed their way to fame,

    From Dallas to the mid-west plains, everyone knew their names.

    They robbed at will , innocent folks, who lived along their path,

    Leaving many dead and cold , during their four year wrath.

    While on the run, from Ranger Frank , they stayed two steps ahead,

    Each night it was a weary time , for them to lay their heads.

    Knowing that the law was near , and would someday catch them sleeping,

    Sleepless they continued on, left many families weeping.

    Until one day , while driving down, a back road made of dirt.

    The shots begin to ring their ears, the Rangers got there first.

    Bonnie and Clyde met their fate, in the year of 34′,

    The terror that they brought with them, gone forever more.

    The news it hit the papers, traveled quickly across the lands,

    Bonnie and Clyde were gone for good, shot by the Rangers hands.

    Poems written by Bonnie Parker, two weeks before she died,

    Tells the story , in her thoughts , before her final ride.

    She knew there was no life for her, always on the run,

    She also knew , for her someday , she’d surely face a gun.

    Bonnie and Clyde’s , lives were short, now the stories we all tell,

    But they will spend eternity, in the place that we call Hell……..

    By: Focused

    Fenntreasuremarksblogsite and CindyM good job, I just had to give it a try…

  155. The punctuation of our life.

    The Beginning…The End.

    Betwixt and between, our sentences are structured

    with complex recollections of reality and dreams;

    Compounded by hopes marrying laughter to tears.

    He and She aren’t counted as pronouns esteemed;

    They’re beloved sisters and brothers who hold us near.

    We’re dependent clauses, we belong on a team.

    Pluralizing our lives eliminates inverted subject order.

    Empty pages occupy the presence of absence in reams,

    when letters no longer reach the ones we held dear.

    Faded strike-overs dress wounds of life torn at the seams.

    Marginalized questions mark our journey’s direction here.

    Imparting significance to others lends strength to our beams.

    Achieving clear expression with unconventional grammar

    only makes a difference if time with others is well-redeemed.

    Shared recollection of laughter with family and friends,

    Sweetens our journey together, and justifies our End.

      • Special & 23,
        Afraid I’m better with thoughts than poetry. The rhyming thing always feels forced. Next up its about poop chutes and Capital letters BM as home of brown! Lol

    • anna – You’ve put nice bookends on some beautiful thoughts.

      Living on anaesthetic
      No one seems to get it
      You’re numb to the sensation
      Living on anaesthetic
      Not the way you’ve chose to have it
      It’s to cold to care
      It’s only fair

      – Thomston lyrics for “Anaesthetic”

    • Poetry of the mind with a little more than rhyme. Anna goes deep with so much more than a peep.

      • Ah, Straw I’m more downy fluff than substance. I could waddle a dance in line with Barney, right behind Tail End Charlie and be content eating Angelo’s popcorn snack before bedding down in that adorable shack.

      • Thank you Cindy. As I let go of ever finding Forrests gold it’s easier to refocus on different types of treasure – enjoy those grandkids!!

  156. Very good Anna , I really enjoyed your words, keep up the good work…….until next time, see ya….

  157. ” Clean Slate ”

    I came into this world so frail, blank slate in which to write,

    Loved ones wrote the first few words, with caring chalk of white.

    Words were small and simple, my mind was very young,

    From that moment forward, my eager mind begun.

    Beside my growing mind of slate, an eraser you would find,

    To remove unwanted words of grey, not needed in my mind.

    Decade past, my slate has grown , my mind is taking shape,

    Nourished by the ones who care, still writing on my slate.

    Word by word, my list grew long , with each passing year,

    Speaking words of wisdom, to those who want to hear.

    Many many years have passed, my hair is turning grey,

    On my slate , a million words , since that fragile day.

    Now sitting in a waiting room , for my grandchild , I do wait ,

    To come into this world so frail , and with an empty slate.

    Simple words I’ve chosen , and with my chalk in hand ,

    To write upon an empty slate , that’s tender and so grand.

    Time has come , to write my words , first words to start anew ,

    Gently with my chalk of white , I write ” I Love You “.

    Beside my growing grandchild , I’ll walk through out the years,

    Oh the stories I will tell , to fill those tender ears.

    We all have words of wisdom , written on our slate of time,

    Take a moment , choose some words , and pass them down the line.

    Help a growing , slate of words , begin a brand new start ,

    If you do this , Trust in me , You’ll feel it in your heart…………

    By Focused

  158. Focused pens the greatest poems
    Chalk words I’ll not forget
    My old eyes are tearing up
    And now my slate is wet

    For as I sit and read his words
    My first grandchild I await
    And I’ll be sure to write lovingly
    Upon his new clean slate.

    ,,, thank you focused. When I meet my grandson, I will think of you and this wonderful poem πŸ™‚

  159. Congrats CindyM on you new grandson, pick a few simple words to write upon his slate…and build them over the years…thank you for your heart felt words,

    Nothing like a grandchild, to sit upon your lap,

    and grab them by their tiny wrist, and make those small hands clap.

    CindyM you’ll place a picture, upon your every shelf,

    when you look into their eyes, you’ll see , a reflection of yourself………

    Enjoy your times spent with him….. πŸ™‚

    • CindyM and Focused I am so excited for both of you! My first grandson arrived in August! I have been over the moon ever since…:) It really is a very special kind of love πŸ™‚

      • Spallies, I’m not expecting any grandchildren ( I don’t think ). lol but CindyM is awaiting a grandson. I have 5 grandsons already, they keep me pretty busy….yes they are special….. congrats on your first grandson spallies.. fill his slate with heartfelt words and enjoy every minute…. see ya………

  160. Focused your talent is grand
    Your words flow freely without demand

    Cindym, we can count on too
    To bring us all a smile or two

    Anna jumps in once in a while
    She has her own unique style

    There’s indy, and Michael d and me
    All on this page of poetry

    Then spallies, she’ll cheer us on
    With 23, tony, Orlando and dawn

    Lol I know that didn’t fit
    But it’s funny a little bit

    Anyway, better get on with my day
    Can’t sit here much longer I’d say

    Have an excellent day all! πŸ™‚
    Jdiggins, out.

    • Jdiggins I liked your poem…. fun friends here on the poetry

      Many come to the Poetry Page, to relax or maybe play,

      or just to rest their weary minds, from a thoughtful day.

      We’re all like tiny pieces , of a puzzle not yet done,

      even though we’re many, together we are one.

      Many words are spoke here, some funny, and some are sad,

      But spoken none the less, to me that makes me glad.

      Even though I speak here, I’ve never written a poem before,

      Not until ole Forrest Fenn , opened up my door.

      We’re all but tiny pieces, when matched, we are locked in,

      To create a mighty master piece , to give to Mr. Fenn.

      To hang upon his adobe wall, to look at every day,

      From friends here at the poetry page, who just came in here to



      • “Even though I speak here, I’ve never written a poem before,”

        Focused, your talents are amazing, and a blessing to us all! πŸ™‚

        This is a great place to hang with your pals! πŸ˜‰

        • Thanks jdiggins,

          like I said, before I jumped into the chase, I haven’t written a poem before…. I guess friends like you guys just pull the words out of me…lol
          so… thank you jdiggins… keep up the great penning yourself.. good luck to you and everyone on their chase… see ya.. πŸ™‚

  161. Been out on a venture, one time before
    Alas, I fear, to my Daughter I am a bore.

    To escape the desert and this damn heat,
    The scenery of New Mexico, does complete.

    So mid October we will venture again,
    Several possible solves, Oh where to begin.

    We will be travelling in a marked Sequoia,
    Honk, pull us over, like to know ya.

    Perhaps break some bread, chew the fat,
    Discuss FF, the TC, this and that.

    I have learned much from this crazy venture,
    Its about the people, places and the adventure.

    The endgame, be nice to find the treasure
    Time spent with my Daughter I can’t measure.

    So now before I get to old,
    Time to pack the truck and find the Gold.


  162. Is life merely
    a part to play?
    Words and deeds
    only a flutter by?

    When truth is known
    How sweet is the fruit
    that we have grown?

    Excuses muttered
    for selfish things done
    only help you.

    Half truths uttered
    move truth further
    from where it lies.

    Wisdom speaks true
    doesn’t cower
    or demand its due.

    If searing light
    were to reveal all,
    would we hide?
    Or stand tall?

      • Hey there Tammy,
        as far as I know, the point of the “Poetry” page is freedom of expression in the form of poetry.

        People post sad, happy, funny, serious, reflective poems about all topics from death to grandchildren here.

        it was Forrests fun idea for folks to write poetry. I love it, and posted a reflective poem today asking deeper questions of myself.

        But it’s just as much fun to throw around silly, meaningless rhymes. You should jump in and give it a try. πŸ˜‰

    • Beautiful, anna. May you find yourself standing tall. I’m little but I’ll use my tippy toes if I have to.
      Thank you for expressing your thoughts. I enjoyed them. πŸ™‚

      Tamara, welcome! Please, if you like, join in! πŸ™‚

  163. Jdiggins, In life I do the best I can, but stumble plenty. Alone we all go into death, with the hope of God’s grace and eternal life. I could never stand tall enough on my own, but with Christ’s redemptive work on the cross – I believe His mercy will cover my shame. If I stand tall it’s only because of Him. Some would call this religion, but for me it’s a relationship with God my heavenly Father – who dearly loves the people He created and blazed a trail for all to follow him into eternity.

    Tying this into TTOTC – my solve includes plotting a large cross on the map (1st home of brown) using 111. principle meridian and 45th parralell. Warm Waters HalT at the T-cross where Christ’s side was pierced and his waters drained out. The Spanish gold miners who hid treasure in New Mexico used this same method as did the Jesuits who mapped gold mines for the King of Spain.

  164. Ode to Forrest

    “Let Me Tell You About This Guy I Know”

    It’s time to make a toast, so let’s all grab a glass
    Don’t be shy raise em high, cause this guy is all class
    He’s affected so many, and done so much good
    He’d feed all the hungry, cure cancer if he could
    Let me tell you about this guy I know

    He’s a glass half full, I’m sure you all would say
    When it comes to treasure, He’ll make you want to pray
    He roots for the under dog, even rescued a few
    If you were in trouble, He’d rescue you too
    Let me tell you about this guy I know

    He’d give the shirt off his back, and throw a ten in the pocket
    Strives for the truth and fairness, but argues with logic
    He never loses his cool, but is cool just the same
    Can’t ever go anywhere, without someone knowing his name
    Let me tell you about this guy I know

    I’m proud to say I know him, would be honored to call him friend
    Feel privileged to compete against him, he tends to be the trend
    But eventually the day will come, when it’s time for me to go
    I can imagine the Lord saying, welcome to the show
    As he puts his arm around me, then I notice streets of gold
    He leans in and whispers
    “Let me tell you about this guy I know”

  165. Back To Basics,,, My Story

    In the second month of 2013, I saw Forrest on the news.
    Then with a good atlas, I mapped out all the clues.

    Soon with my friend in tow, I traveled very far.
    With my fear of heights, I let her drive the car.

    As the old saying goes, once is not enough.
    Soon again we traveled, hunting treasure sure is tough!

    Searching here and hiking there, I gave it all I’ve got.
    I can’t tell you where it is, but rather where it’s not.

    Still that elusive chest, somehow calls to me.
    It still consumes my very soul, and haunts me in my dreams.

    If this scene sounds just like, what you’ve experienced in the chase,,,
    Don’t give up, there’s still a bronze chest in Forrest’s special place.

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