Poetry Page III…

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The chase certainly has inspired some great poetry…

Here is page III 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 the  verse on the first page of poetry click HERE.

If you would like to peruse the verse on the second page of poetry click HERE

Thanks

dal…

743 thoughts on “Poetry Page III…”

  2. I was honored to perform this song in Santa Fe at Forrest Fenn’s book release event for “The Thrill Of The Chase.”

    THE THRILL OF THE CHASE
    Music by Bob Haworth / Lyrics by Bob Haworth & Forrest Fenn
    © 2011 Three Cats Music, BMI

    SOME ROADS LEAD YOU NOWHERE
    SOME ROADS LEAD YOU HOME
    SOME ROADS LEAD TO TROUBLE
    NOT ALL ROADS LEAD TO ROME
    SO MANY ROADS I’VE TRAVELED
    WHO CARES WHERE THEY MIGHT END
    JUST LOOKIN’ FOR THE NEXT ADVENTURE
    UP AROUND THE BEND

    CHORUS:

    IT’S THE THRILL OF THE CHASE
    THAT KEEPS ME RUNNIN’
    THE THRILL OF THE CHASE
    THAT MAKES ME FREE
    AS FREE AS THE WIND RUSTLIN’ IN THE PINES
    I’M CHASIN’ A DREAM, I’M CHASIN’ RAINBOWS
    CHASIN’ THE MIDNIGHT SUN
    IT’S THE THRILL OF THE CHASE
    THAT MAKES ME RUN

    DON’T WAIT FOR TOMORROW
    THE MOMENT DOESN’T LAST
    THE WORLD IS OUT THERE WAITING
    THE DEW IS ON THE GRASS
    OUR DAYS ARE SURELY NUMBERED
    WE CAN’T GO ON & ON
    LIKE GYPSIES IN THE FIRELIGHT
    WE’RE HERE & THEN WE’RE GONE

    REPEAT CHORUS

    BRIDGE:

    DESTINATIONS – EXPECTATIONS
    SPECULATIONS – ANTICIPATIONS
    EXPLORATIONS – FASCINATIONS
    BORN OF WILD IMAGINATION
    MOTIVATIONS – STIMULATIONS
    COMPLICATIONS & FRUSTRATIONS
    INSPIRATIONS – JUBILATIONS
    EVERY DAY’S A CELEBRATION

    SOME WILL HUNT FOR TREASURE
    WHAT DO THEY HOPE TO FIND?
    MY TREASURE IS MY SOULMATE
    OUR HEARTS ARE INTERTWINED
    BUT AS THE YEARS ARE PASSING
    I’VE COME TO REALIZE
    IT’S REALLY MORE ABOUT THE CHASE
    AND NOT SO MUCH THE PRIZE

    CHORUS:

    IT’S THE THRILL OF THE CHASE
    THAT KEEPS ME RUNNIN’
    THE THRILL OF THE CHASE
    THAT MAKES ME FREE
    AS FREE AS THE WIND RUSTLIN’ IN THE PINES
    I’M CHASIN’ A DREAM, I’M CHASIN’ RAINBOWS
    CHASIN’ A POT OF GOLD
    IT’S THE THRILL OF THE CHASE
    THAT KEEPS ME FROM GROWIN’ OLD
    IT’S THE THRILL OF THE CHASE THAT MAKES ME RUN

    • Hi Bob,
      It’s been awhile since you first sang this song back in Feb 26, 2011 at Collected Works (am I right). I was just wondering a couple of things. When you first sang this song was it your original version you wrote back then or was it this version after you and Forrest made changes to it, and are you willing to share those changes? Also are you a follower of Dal’s blog site? or were you contacted by Forrest to put this Poem – Song here? Thanks for all you have done. Bur

      • Bur – (are you cold???)

        Yes, the event was at Collected Works in Santa Fe. I’m pretty sure that the version I sang that night was the final version. I think I’d already been into the studio to record this song before I left for Santa Fe. (And by the way, the recording is available on request. I should put it up for download from my website, but I need some technical help with that…Dal?) However, as with pretty much everything I write, there were several re-writes leading up to the final version. I usually don’t save those early drafts, but in this case I did. These were two early versions of the last verse:

        I KNOW THERE’S A TREASURE
        JUST WAITING TO BE FOUND
        GOLDEN COINS AND PRECIOUS STONES
        ALL BURIED IN THE GROUND
        BUT IF I NEVER FIND IT
        AFTER SEARCHING YEAR TO YEAR
        AT LEAST I’LL HAVE A STORY
        SHOULD SOMEONE CARE TO HEAR

        THE WORLD IS FULL OF TREASURES
        JUST WAITING TO BE FOUND
        SOME ARE RIGHT BEFORE (BESIDE) US
        IF WE JUST LOOK AROUND
        BUT AS THE YEARS ARE PASSING
        I’VE COME TO REALIZE
        IT’S REALLY MORE ABOUT THE CHASE
        AND NOT SO MUCH THE PRIZE

        And then, here are a couple lines that Forrest sent me that actually inspired the final version of the last verse. Forrest and I did confer throughout the writing process and I believe there were other suggestions that he offered, but due to a recent computer crash I can’t access those notes at the moment. But here, from the man himself:

        THERE WERE THOSE WHO LOOKED FOR PLEASURE
        AS FAR AS THEY COULD SEE
        AND ALL THE WHILE THEIR SOULMATE TREASURE
        RESTED AT THEIR KNEE

        And in response to your final question, I do follow this blog occasionally. I think some of the poetry posted on this page is excellent. Unfortunately, the circumstances of my life have not allowed me to go treasure hunting. But, hey – I have my soulmate, so I really am treasure-rich! By the way, my website is http://www.bobhaworth.com. Visit my message board there for some interesting discussion.

        • Thanks Bob,
          I have visited your message board a few time when this song came out and the To Far to Walk also and seen your comments about your friend Irene and of course Forrest who you met through her.

          Again thanks Bob for getting back with me. Buy the way “Bur” was a name my friends called me back in high school days and has carried on with me in my 59 years. Keep up the good work Bob. Bur

  3. I ring the bell once again
    remembering time way back when
    there were many beaver then
    he forgave a sinner from the den
    a mountain man he must of been
    nailed to the wood way back when
    we ring his bell again and again

    by me.

  4. howdy Bob! hunch here. sure is easy for a fella to say its all about the thrill of the chase when he’s sittin in a house full of quarry. aint it?

  9. My husband and I live in Alaska and joined The Chase , along with so many others, when Forrest first appeared on The Today Show.

    Just 9 days later (yes 9) I wrote this song…

    THE SECRET OF THE CHASE
    By Lyndella

    SO THE LEGEND GOES AND THE STORIES TELL
    OF A TREASURE HIDDEN VERY WELL
    BY A CLEVER MAN NAMED FORREST FENN
    WHO’S CLUES ENTICE US OUT AND THEN

    DARING US TO GO UP WHERE
    WE SMELL THE SUN AND MOUNTAIN AIR
    OUR HEARTS REWARDED BY THE THRILL
    TO CHASE THE SECRETS OF THE HILLS

    A TREASURE TROVE OF JEWELS AND GOLD
    HE’S HIDDEN SOMEWHERE WORTH THE COLD
    AND IF I’M BRAVE THEN I MUST GO
    IN THE CANYON DOWN

    WHERE WARM WATERS HALT, SO I HEAR
    TO WALK IT IS TOO FAR I FEAR
    THE MEEK SHALL FIND NO SOLACE HERE
    BELOW THE HOME OF BROWN

    AND WHEN THE END IS DRAWING NIGH
    WITH HEAVY LOADS AND WATERS HIGH
    THE BLAZE IS SEEN IF YOU’VE BEEN WISE
    LOOK QUICKLY DOWN WITH MARVELED EYES

    WHERE HE LEFT IT, SOME HAVE SAID
    TO BE REMEMBERED WHEN HE’S DEAD
    THOSE OF US WHO LISTENED GOOD
    WILL TAKE A WALK OUT IN THE WOOD

    AND HIKE A TRAIL WITH THOSE WE LOVE
    SIDE BY SIDE WILL BE ENOUGH
    DISTRACTIONS FADE ALONG THE BLUFF
    AS WE ARRIVE BACK WHERE WE STARTED

    AS WE EXPLORE THE BIG AND SMALL
    THE WONDERS THAT AWAIT US ALL
    IF ONLY WE’D LISTEN TO THE CALL
    OF THE WISE ONE’S WHO’VE DEPARTED

    OL’ FORREST MUST BE LAUGHING NOW
    PROUD OF HIMSELF, HIS CHASE AND HOW
    EACH OF US IS TALKING ‘BOUT
    WHO’LL BE THE ONE TO FIND IT

    AND IF CONTENTMENT IS THE GOAL
    WITH ALL OUR DASHING TO AND FRO
    LIKE WE WERE INDIANA JONES…
    TO LIVE THE CHASE REMINDS US

    THAT IN THE END, WE KNOW NOT WHEN
    BUT WE COULD STILL BEGIN AGAIN
    AND FIND THE PLACE ANEW AND THEN…
    THE SECRETS THERE BEHIND IT

  11. To post to this page
    I will prose.
    Am I an expert?
    Who knows?

    Forrest may use words like far,
    Which some interpret as four.
    Was it that he used a car?
    Or was it a Jeep, a 4×4?

    4 is different than four,
    Yet it is the same.
    Brown, is it a color?
    B as a capital, does it make it a name?

    So confusing,
    It all is.
    Where warm waters halt,
    Is it a whiz?

    Ew, that’s gross!
    … Imagination for you.
    But, it is prose,
    Shoul it be started anew?

    In your plight,
    I’m sure f would say,
    Add to the poetry light,
    Add a rhym here this day.

    Poetry he writes,
    In riddles he speaks,
    He mentions birds,
    Some have no beaks.

    What is that?
    I don’t understand.
    Oh, get off of that duff,
    Go! Go exploreth the land!

    Go now,
    The chest we shall seek,
    Be brave
    And don’t be the meek.

    Chest thumping,
    The Thrill of the Chase.
    Rock jumping,
    Am I becoming an ace?

    What? All of that just to subscribe?
    Please no bad reviews, it might kill my good vibe.

  13. I don’t recall
    if Dick Van Dyke
    told Mary Poppins
    to take a hike.

    Bravely she piloted
    to view Fenn’s clues;
    Popped her umbrella
    And away she flew.

    Her spoon full of sugar
    Helps the medicine go down
    can it help me digest
    the elusive home of Brown?

  14. As I pick up my lower lip
    And pull it over my head,
    I think about what I shoulda,
    The things I coulda said.

    I would not have uttered one,
    Not one word to shy away.
    I would not have made you
    Uncomfortable, in any way.

    Such are the thoughts go round
    And round again upstairs,
    Such that I’ve given up
    Trying to split most hairs.

    Hares, heirs or aires…

    just happy to be me most times
    As long as I can take a breath
    keeping memories and rhymes,
    As treasures to my death.

  15. ” Knowledge ”

    He was the sacred bird of Thoth , with scepter in his hand,

    The balance of the universe, mighty umpire of the land.

    Neither good nor bad, could take control, though both sides they have tried.

    Thoth he kept them both in check, and never missed a stride.

    Egyptian wall of pictures, now tell us of their myths,

    In Thoth’s new form of writing, we know as hieroglyphs.

    For at least a couple thousand years, they’ve wrote upon their walls,

    Boldly in the passages, of their long and narrow halls.

    Through their writings, we have learned , that gold it has a power,

    Owned mostly by Egyptian kings, who lived in that ancient hour.

    Gold it was the ” skin of Gods “, priceless to all kings,

    But wisdom held the greatest power, way above all things.

    Because of Thoth, God of Wisdom , knowledge spread the lands,

    Then they lived a better life, across those arid sands.

    Homes they built, with massive stones, pointed at the top,

    Wisdom helped them manage those, huge and massive rocks.

    I believe there is a lesson here, in the lives of ancient kings,

    It’s not about the gold we have, or our bright shiny things.

    It’s more about our knowledge, that we pass on down the line,

    So generations after us, can also live as fine.

    We too can write upon our wall, for a thousand years ahead,

    The future will then know of us, and the knowledge that we had.

    Pass your wisdom on to others, so they can also strive,

    To live a life of knowledge, and in death they’ll feel alive……..

    By: Focused

      • Wow at the comments on this one…lol Well Lucky girl, to be honest with ya… I have never written a poem until I became involved in the chase. I have had a few others mention to me that a book would be good. so I have only recently thought about it… the problem is that I know ” nothing” about books, publishing, cost etc. ….. it’s kinda like having a good lure on the end of your line , and a huge lake in front of you…. which way do you cast?
        Maybe someday that would be possible…. I’m sure I could sell ten or twelve….. for now I guess I’ll enjoy the chase that Forrest has presented us with, and amuse all of you guys with my ramblings…… good luck to you in the chase Lucky girl…. glad you like my words…. until next time… see ya 🙂

      • Thank you CindyM , I know I’m filling the comments section up right now, but I feel its important to thank each one of you guy personally … sorry for the congestion…. good luck CindyM in your chase… see ya

    • Focused, I don’t know what your vocation is, but I believe you have found an avocation that could become your vocation. I enjoy your writings.

      As Mr. Fenn said; “Opportunity doesn’t like to be kept waiting” and some times the door opens when least expected.

      • BW – I am not sure about the opportunity quote and its relevance. It seems many doors are open and we just do not see them right away. It is more a concern when we consciously close doors. We may see an opportunity when we least expect it – but maybe it was there all along.

      • Thank you for your kind comments BW , I write for the enjoyment of others,,,,, I’m glad you enjoy them….. 🙂

        ” Three doors wide open before me, the choices I must

        make.

        Not as simple as it sounds, which door that I must take.

        They all are doors to somewhere, they’re ready to step

        within.

        But only one door leads the way, to where I can use my

        pen…………

        That one is for you BW…. good luck to you in the chase… see ya.. 🙂

    • Focus, again a great poetic work! The wise may wish and intend to share with upcoming generations. The question and barrier may be that generations to follow do not want to hear the words of wisdom. Then we gravitate from wisdom of knowledge to hope of glitter. It would be interesting to see your incorporation of the rejection in this poem and the predicted result.

      • humm, something to think about crowfeast,……. 🙂
        Thank you for your nice comment… see ya

      • Ok crowfeast this one is for you. You wanted me to write a poem as if the future didn’t want the knowledge, but only wanted the gold and glitter. .. so here it is I hope you like it…. Sorry about the slow response, I have been busy lately… good luck to ya in the chase… until next time.. see ya 🙂

        ” Cosmic Knowledge ”

        While cruising in my capsule, in the year of 3010,

        Looking for anything, that belonged to ancient man.

        The cosmic sun shines bright, I’m looking all around,

        Then it quickly caught my eye, a reflection on the ground.

        I lowered my capsule, at the place, I seen down on the land.

        Hoping to find, something old, left by historic man.

        I raised my door, stepped on out, and started to look around.

        And there it was just laying there, half covered in the ground.

        I picked it up, couldn’t believe, in my hands so glad,

        Gazing there in disbelief, I held an ancient ipad.

        I jumped into my capsule, and hurried back to my slip.

        The ipad I inspected it, while biting on my lip.

        I pushed the button, at the bottom, and to my surprise.

        It came on, brightly shined, right there before me eyes.

        An ancient man named ” Focused “, speaks of a hidden chest of gold.

        And all the knowledge, they had back then, man he sounds so old.

        He wrote upon this little wall, I hold within my hands,

        He speaks about the wisdom, they spread across the lands.

        I sit here with his ancient ipad , I hear a cosmic blast,

        I don’t need the wisdom, knowledge is of the past.

        Riches I’ll have, but no knowledge I’ll need,

        Thank you Focused, for your writings , and for planting my golden seed.

        By: Focused

    • There was some men named Thoth and ThothMoses they were known as.
      Three Pharaohs and one sculptor.

  17. Imagination

    I always looked up to the sky,
    As if it held the answer why.
    I’d find myself amongst the stars,
    Above the clouds, right past mars.
    I’d float around without a care,
    Knowing the answer was right there.
    If I reached out far enough to touch,
    I could feel everything so, so much.
    In the weightlessness of the midnight sky,
    You may just find the answer why.

  21. Focused, like you I feel I should give all their own separate “thank you”, it seems more important…
    Nonetheless, to save comment space, thanks to you all,
    Focused, cindym, spallies, lyndella!
    And spallies…great job! 🙂

    • A number of people on this blog should publish their own books of poetry! There’s talent here I tell ya.

      Or maybe we could draft Forrest to publish a collection of searchers’ poems with proceeds going to cancer research? 🙂

  22. “Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day.”

    Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

    • Thank you for posting, 23kachinas. It is beautiful and touching.

      It takes a lot of trying to love locked rooms though 🙂

      • CindyM, I’m happy you felt the words ring true.

        I got that quote from an audiobook called The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma

        – Bessel van der Kolk

        His early work was with Vietnam veterans (PTSD)

  23. ” Fall Rainbow ”

    Brisk winds of fall, setting in, to rest upon the leaves,

    The green of summer, turns to gold, now floating in the breeze.

    Orange, red and yellow, shining boldly in the sun,

    But only for a little while, now fall has surely sprung.

    While walking through the woodlands, admiring all the color,

    The little chipmunks, that I see, prepare their winter cover.

    Just like all the other animals, hustling all around,

    Trying to make their house a home, before snow hits the ground.

    Soon these woodlands will be covered, with a winter blanket of white,

    The trees will bare, the colors of fall, will be gone and out of sight.

    Take the time and find a trail, and walk into the breeze,

    Admire the colors, fall has for you , there shining in the trees.

    Hustle and bustle, our lives we live, always on the go,

    Sometimes we forget the beauty, mother nature has to show.

    You will not be sorry, for the time that you will spend,

    Beneath the colors of the fall, that soon will surely end.

    Your face will proudly show it, it will have a special glow,

    Your heart will warmly feel it, as you visit ” Gods Rainbow “…………

    By: Focused

    • I know when two words rhyme. But I’m at a complete loss to put them at the end of two sentences. Sentences that lift the spirit of the reader.

      Thanks, Focused, keep it up! 🙂

      • Your welcome specialklr , you too can lift the spirits of a reader , it’s in you…just put your thoughts on paper…..I’m relatively new to writing prose myself….I started when I joined the chase…give it a shot…if you fail and don’t like your words , then you can feel proud that you tried….it’s a win win situation….. Glad you liked my words specialklr , good luck to you in the chase…..until next time….see ya……

    • Focused, terrific poem. Those least chipmunks are still enjoying my soft, white, flannel blanket I left on a tree limb to keep them warm 50 yrs ago! The blanky is now brown – no doubt!

  24. ” Short and Sweet ”

    Take life slow,

    Live not fast.

    Feel your soul,

    Explore your past.

    Dig down deep,

    Within yourself.

    Take a peek,

    Your inner self.

    Share your heart,

    Live not fast.

    Some will dart,

    Some will bask.

    Enjoy all things,

    within your reach.

    Let it ring,

    Do not preach.

    Heart will feel,

    Shiny brand new.

    Let love spill,

    Inside of you.

    Enjoy your time,

    Each passing minute.

    Someday this rhyme,

    Won’t have you in it……………

    By : Focused

  25. Whether ethos, pathos and logos…no one can complete with Focused poems.

    Fall Rainbow is a nice reminder to look up and away from our screens to see the seasons change.

    • Thanks for your kind words 23kachinas , yes step outside and enjoy the smell of the fall sunshine…..
      Resting on leaves of gold…….good luck to ya 23kachinas….. See ya

  26. OK Focused you inspired me to write something about poor indulgence who is facing its fifth winter in the mountains and is probably ready to come home… 🙂

    Indulgence

    Summer has run it’s course
    I am covered up by leaves
    They are a bit too coarse
    I wish that they would leave

    It’s like I’m in a sea
    Of waves that are all red
    How will the searcher see
    Unless the clues he’s read

    Why not put on me a bow?
    A Blaze upon the vale
    At last to take my final bow
    And step out from behind the veil…

    • Wow spallies…that was great…now you inspired me to go find indulgence before winter snows….lol keep up the great work….until we meet again….good luck and see ya……….

  27. For my friends here on the poetry page
    I too shall jump accross the stage

    Focused, your words like butter on bread,
    Smooth and soft and perfectly spread.

    Spallies, you jump in now and again,
    It’s a great joy to see that you pen.

    Cindym, you roll right along too,
    Wrapping your prose for us all to undo.

    Michael d, nearindy and others here
    Your on my mind just can’t see clear.

    Then me, I like to spin one now and then
    But only if my head can volley my pen.

    It’s an honor to be here amongst you,
    I am thankful for each one…it’s true.

    • I agree, Jdiggins. There are many great writers here. It’s difficult for me to compete with others whose words are like butter on bread…smooth and soft and perfectly spread.

      I like my bread how I like my women…French and covered with butter.

      Or Brazilian…and covered with cocoa butter. 🙂

      Thanks Everyone for making me smile.

        • JC1117,
          boa noite To your wife.
          In Scandinavian mythology female warriors or Valkyries appear as lovers of heroes and other mortals, are sometimes described as the daughters of royalty, sometimes accompanied by ravens and sometimes connected to swans. Is there a Portugese equivalent? Perhaps in Inca tradition.

          Anyway, the key to happy a life is to love what you have, and place hope in Eternity.

  28. Sometimes I feel,
    Of this rhrill,
    Experiences,
    I’m certain.

    Other times, I wear a frown,
    Of why? I think it’s the canyon down.
    For below,
    I have not searched.

    I’ve gone up far,
    And avec mucho trabajo,
    Battling growth to reach the abajo.

    Many a sight of mining forgotten,
    A lonely cabin lay still,
    It’s logs not yet rotten,
    Yes, a memory beheld.

    Get back on track, Slurbs.
    And don’t let your thoughts wander,
    Think of the current. What is asunder?
    Stay srong, you’ll be back soon enough.

    And listen good we are told,
    Ha, ha, ha.
    And why do you care?
    Hip, hop, tarry, and stare.

    Silly me. How could down have been so displaced yet, right there?

  29. If at first you don’t succeed, dust yourself off and try again, try again…

    TURN AWAY FROM HERE, YOUR TIME HAS NOT YET COME

    Don’t look at me.
    You’re not weak.
    Go back from where you came, you don’t have to go all the way back. Remember, I just don’t want you to see me yet.

    Don’t look upon my face.
    You act like you don’t remember me.
    My eyes were the first you gazed upon when I handed you over to the world.
    Take a step back and see if you recognize me there.

    Don’t look for lines turned up at the ends.
    Look at the top of my head. You see my hat? It can’t hide that my hair has fallen out. Close your eyes, but not too tight.

    Look away I say! Don’t see the clothes I wear. They may be torn from limb to limb, but do you see my ribs? Well, ok. Maybe you do. Didn’t I say to look away.

    I’m not wrinkled and gray. Why do you say that? My skin is dry. Tis a crack I tell you, not a wrinkle. I’m ’bout to do something I not want.

    I’ve shared my gifts with you and still you trodden me so. That’s it. I’ve had enough. My defenses, I put up. Lets see you get past. My monster will knock you down.

    Don’t look at me. Must I send my birds to take your sight? Don’t. Don’t look at me.
    Keep away. Don’t make me cry. Stop asking questions. Stop asking why.

    When the time is drawn, then you can come. Lay your hair upon my breadth. Take your time, there is no rush. Close your eyes and let them see.

    My tears of joy you see. I’m happy to see you again my child. I see you are no worse for wear. A bruise here a bruise there, I did tell you to take care.

    Come, stand upon my supple place. Take a shower. Look out my window. See my grace. Don’t stare now. There is always room for you here. Look at me now. Go ahead, open your eyes

  31. What inspires me is the sunshine
    fresh air,
    blue skies and dragonflies.
    Sandy beaches and bare feet,
    sitting in the front seat.
    Wind that tickles my ears and
    makes my hair dance on my face.
    warm fuzzy slippers,
    and a warm cozy fire.
    What inspires me are daydreams,
    memories,
    and what I might be someday.
    Staying young along the way.
    Watching children grow, laugh and play,
    and not missing a single day.
    What inspires me is the love of my dog,
    how she smiles at me,
    she does, I can see.
    The forest sunsets,
    the desert sunrise,
    The chill of brisk morning air as I open my eyes.
    Yeah, that stuff I like.
    I think I’ll go take a hike. 🙂

  32. ” Choices ”

    I look into the future, gaze in my crystal ball,

    Three doors I see before me, wide but not real tall.

    Each a different color, a choice that I must make,

    Once a color’s opened, that door then I must take.

    First door’s painted red, like the desert setting sun,

    Looks so warm and cozy, inviting me to come.

    Second door’s painted green, like the grass beneath my feet,

    But is the path beyond the door, equally as sweet ?

    Third door’s painted blue, like the mighty sky above,

    But if I step inside this door, will i soar like all the doves?

    My choice is not reversible, once my final choice is made,

    Will I labor in the sun, or rest within the shade?

    All three seem so inviting, only one door leads the way,

    A choice, I know, that I must make, because I cannot stay.

    I bow my head and ask for help, don’t know what I should do,

    Should I choose the door of red, or the door of green or blue?

    By: Focused

  33. I have intended to contribute but my brain is tired lately. Instead of something original, I offer this to Focused and friends,,,thank you Focused, your poems are always thought provoking and wonderful,

    Choices

    Three doors in front of each of us, only one which we must choose;

    The colors of this gorgeous earth of reds and greens and blues.

    But there is yet just one more door, although not so apparent.

    Off to the right it stands, the last door is transparent.

    Looking through that last glass door, If we strain our eyes to see,

    Are many loved ones from the past, both friends and family.

    They’ll welcome us with stories
    Of times so long ago.

    Then our lives will be complete, for many things we’ve longed to know.

    So we’ll stay upon this earth and when our time is near.

    We’ll add our own unique story, so I’d say our choice is clear.

    • Wow Cindy , hats off to ya on that one…loved it…..I think I will take the clear door….great job……

    • Thank you Jdiggins and Focused. At times, I feel like an imposter but I’m glad you like my thoughts, even if they’re only afterthoughts 🙂

      Here is my token limerick,,,

      There once was an aspiring poet
      Who wrote many poems to show it
      He drew oohs and ahhs
      And a lot of applause
      Is he a real poet, you know it!

    • DOORS

      Front doors, side doors and back doors,
      I can’t even keep track of their colors.

      A foot in the door,
      knock on doors,
      open up doors.

      Show someone the door,
      have the door slammed in ones face,
      shut the door.

      I think I’ll take the stairs,
      I like the sunset view from up there.

      – 23kachinas

  34. The longer this treasure we seek,
    We too grow tired and weak.

    But as long as winds’ in my sails,
    There’ll be no coffin for those nails.

    The man himself could still make the trek,
    Wish he would so I could follow him bek,
    Cuz it’s drivin me crazy and I’ve a pinch in my neck!

    But i, alas, am not alone, oh no.
    Plenty more down this road go.

    The course of leisure, to hobby to ritual,
    And just like coffee, it’s now habitual.

    Who said what and what does it mean?
    Sometimes it’s an ugly scene!

    But what treasure comes without trying?
    And what’s it worth without a little crying?

    A little blood, sweat and tears,
    For some a few years,
    For all a big kick in the rears!

    What would we all do if it’s found?
    In circles we’d go round, and round?

    And guess the words of the song…
    where the heck did I go wrong?
    But me,

    What the heck took me so long?

    • Good job jdiggins….we better enjoy all the treasures along the way…..who knows if we’ll ever reach indulgence……. I know I have enjoyed them… Also planning another trip in the near future. Probably my last one for the season.this will be number 21 …hey, that’s a blackjack (21).
      Humm…….gotta think positive…lol let the wind keep blowing in your sails jdiggins…..and sail on…. :-). See ya

  35. ” Never Alone ”

    I sail upon an ocean wide, into the rising sun,

    Lost at sea, and worried, my day has just begun.

    Sailing into the vastness, with my conscious as my friend,

    Hoping to spot some land somewhere, before this day has end.

    No matter what the outcome, if on this sea I die,

    Then I have given it my all, I gave an honest try.

    Searching I continued on, for any speck of land,

    Eating my last bit of food, I held within my hand.

    I know I’m sailing pretty fast, there’s wind within my sail,

    But in this vast and open place, it seems just like a snail.

    My thirst is getting stronger, as the hours slowly pass,

    I try to think some happy thoughts, like water in my glass.

    The day drags on, the sun is hot , still listening to my soul,

    The wind dies down, the sail it hangs, right beside the pole.

    I crawl up to the pointed bow, and kneel upon my knees,

    I say a prayer to God above, ” please help me off this sea “.

    As I raised up to my feet, and finished with my prayer,

    The hanging sail began to rise, filling up with air.

    The wind it blew much stronger, than it ever has before,

    And pushed me towards, what looks to me, like a busy shore.

    The shore it got much closer, with every second passed,

    Soon I know I’ll have some water, in my empty glass.

    When I reached the open beach, with footprints in the sand,

    Out I jumped, kissed the ground, so proud to be on land.

    I knelt upon the sandy beach, I gazed into the sun,

    ” Thank you God for listening, now I owe you one”.

    ” I will repay the gift of life, that you have given me,

    I promise you I’ll tell the story, when ” WE ” were lost at sea……..”

    By: Focused

  36. The Legend of the Pink Tutu Treasure Two…

    The first was found in just over one year,
    So the second was hidden just a little less clear.
    The clues to the first took me to a place
    Where I thought the chase ended but I got egg on my face.
    My new treasure trove is a little more bold,
    And the place that it rests is just a little more cold.
    Fenn’s trove was not there but the beauty remains,
    Deserving of the treasures that time sustains.
    The last reward was a signed Thrill of the Chase,
    The next is the second book of the Forrest Fenn race.
    It’s Too Far To Walk but that’s how I got there,
    And you will too if you take my dare.
    Warm waters halted for me at the border,
    And 24.02 miles south was Fenn’s order.
    From there I went left 200 feet,
    And the bridge made of wood sure was neat.
    A spanish Brown was there in 1543,
    But his home was not where I thought it would be.
    At the End of the Rainbow is the start of the wood,
    Where the treasure I placed can be seen where I stood.
    If you’ve been wise and rode the right chair,
    You might even ride your mountain bike there.
    For those who are willing the reward will be great,
    But only if you find yourself in the right state.
    If you are meek the trip is not wise.
    You need some very muscular thighs.
    Don’t go in spring because fall is your friend,
    Warm waters halt more toward the years’ end.
    From there it’s the long way up your creek,
    To the headwaters of the tired mountain you seek.
    The goose laid a golden egg at a place
    That is part way down from the start of my chase.
    Bindings and poles at the start of the year
    Will do you no good until the weather is clear.
    My trove is wet for part of the year,
    But you’ll only find it wearing dry weather gear.

    GOOD LUCK!!! It’s a good’un!

  37. The Haunting

    So many pages on this blog;
    Scrapbooks, Speed bumps and wondrous tales

    By both armchair and active searchers, inspecting hills and dales.

    Contests, aberrations and Forrest’s interviews,

    I pore through all the pages, reading up on all the news.

    Keeping up with all the stories
    Surely can be daunting.

    But the fun and funny poetry page
    Is where I do my haunting.

  38. A Journey for ALL-

    As the apprentice seeks out the winning trail,
    Its the gold she looks for, and hopes to not fail,
    Making her way through each of the lines,
    She is confident her solution is correct this time.

    Running to the x she made on her map,
    Only to see that her x was a trap.
    In a laughter of sigh and shear disarray
    Its back to the drawing board until its May.

    But not before she took the long way home,
    She admired the beauty that her earth had shown,
    The summits of white, and the valleys of green,
    She suddenly realized, its not about bling.

    But Her passion grew to find the trove
    And snowy months put her search on hold
    As winter rode on, it was Google she used,
    A string of knowledge was beginning to brew.

    An entire winter had passed on by,
    She now had the knowledge of any guy.
    She was able to think in unfamiliar styles,
    The winter months made it all worth while.

    She waited for the warmth and dashed out on foot,
    To seek her passion, where no one would look.
    Finding her treasure along with some gold,
    in a different place than what was initially told.

    Asking the hider, why did you not tell,
    He responded with a motive that rang a bell,
    If I would had said what you needed know,
    You would have missed what our Earth had to show.

    She nodded her head and smiled with ease,
    The hider can now be warmly at peace,
    If you think you’re obsessed, then you might think twice,
    It is our passion, and imagination that keeps us alive.

    • I think there’s a song about this treasure hunt: “killing me softly….”

      Nice poem! Does the value of x make up most of the 4 million? What would go well there? Ha ha. I wonder how much the treasure is really worth, if the title is to land. Hmm.

      • I’m not positive, but I think the poem says “I give you title to the gold.” I don’t think much land has blown into the chest, but you can probably have title to it as well…

    • Journey sounds right – just like Charlie and the golden ticket for a tour of the Wonka factory. What a classic!

      Nice poem (0)willy

    • Good job woneyedwilly …….loved it……your right imagination keeps us going…..keep up the good work…..see ya….

  39. Man abrupts the water flow.
    Redirecting the green.
    More than the shadow knows
    There’s five, one with wings.
    Hopefully he flies.
    Rough and rugged, prickly too and
    Not a good compromise.
    Spheres of influence become trivial unless one smacks you in the head.
    Let’s walk the foundation before we say hi to the clinically impressed down Below.
    Just saying.
    Ain’t is not a word. Truth is arrived at through consensus.

  40. Ok, I’ve seen some people write ebooks. I will publish my solve, with the HOB and the spheres of influence, tomorrow. The place should be crawling with seekers by next weekend. 🙂 I’ll publish five ebooks at a small amount and ten at a higher amount.. Until someone finds the treasure. That person should be ready to argue with Fenn about land value and the value of Troy gold. I think I’ll have this ready by tomorrow. But… I’ve never self published before. Anyway, I’m at hollyccairns@gmail.com if you have insider thoughts and want to contribute info towards my ebook! Or argue with me before I print. Any other ebooks I’ve read will be referenced to, but you’ll have to buy those others to see what those other solves missed. No joke. And yes, I’ve published my solve in 2010? And 2015 in FB. Maybe you don’t need to but the book. But holy cow, Forrest is interesting. I thought we could make a movie about the find so searchers could enjoy learning a THE solve in the movie, but maybe that is pwsthf. See you tomorrow w the link to the ebook. Dal, I am a WordPress blogger. Can I post on here w a user and password? Thanks.

    • Holly-
      Only administrators can add a post to this blog. If you have something you’d like to see as a post rather than a comment…just email it to me and if it doesn’t break the ethical continuum I will post it and folks can comment..

        • Not being critical, just curious. If you have the winning solve, why are you posting it here in lieu of going to get the TC?

          WC

        • Not being critical, just curious. If you have the winning solve, why can’t you find Dal’s email address…..located on this page??

          loco 🙂

        • Holly –

          Whatever, is not a very polite response to Dal when he was simply informing you of what’s going on here in Dodge City – and your a writer?

          Can’t wait for the explanation of why you just don’t go and get the treasure yourself.

          • Oops.But as a WordPress author I know you can set permissions so others can author and post upon approval.

          • Oops……But as a WordPress administrator I know it ain’t gonna happen.

            As Dal has nicely said this is not the place to discuss your book. We have a page devoted to books by searchers. Send us the link to your book and any promotional material you would like posted and you’ll have your very own page to discuss your book all you want.

            https://dalneitzel.com/books-by-searchers/

  42. Ok now, I pasted my new not quite certain its finished poem below. My last poem was more of a puzzle so this one is sincere, especially since I present it to my wife tomorrow night on her birthday. The puzzle aspect in the prior poem was that it included and Acrostic CHASE and was in Chain Verse.

    Proses Moses

    Prose is beautiful they say
    But I don’t see it that way

    For music I have no ear
    If I sing, its others I fear

    And for the world of art
    Well, I can’t tell them apart

    Tis bravery that I require now
    To write verse when I know not how

    Bravery is clearly not my strongest suit
    Oh dear my vocabulary is scant to boot

    As for now and with no great ease
    I’ll pen some words intended to please

    So its pen to the paper I go
    If this stinks I don’t want to know

    Roses are red and them violets are blue
    Violets are blue, does that seem strange to you?

    Well dear this is where I recall the day
    When a rainbow shown on a cloudy day

    What did I do to ever deserve one like you?
    What did I say that you love me this way?

    Happy Birthday Hon!
    Let’s continue in our fun

    Love you much,

    Me

  43. I have said it before this is one of my favorite pages! Focused, woneyedwilly and ukrn2it great stuff! Keep them coming everybody.

    • Thanks Homecoming76 glad you like reading our words…more to come soon… Have a good night….see ya

  44. My next search–

    Leave the World behind.
    Flowers and tall grass whisper,
    Follow the arrow!

    Geoff
    “Have flashlight, will travel” (Soon, I hope, weather permitting)

  46. EMPATHY

    Are you so sure of yourSelf?
    Maybe you shouldn’t be.
    Try empathy.

    It feels like lifelong summer, it looks like rain,
    It doesn’t cost anything to join the game.

    – 23kachinas

    • 23Kachinas, nice thoughts on Empathy. I’ve always respected what you put forth here on the blog. So, here’s a sincere question I welcome your feedback or anyone’s. Some issues require a multitude of counselors. It’s not a poem, but its life, and typically I’m on point with poetry or clues, etc.

      If you are being treated like crap repeatedly by a so-called friend, do you empathize with their insecurity, and inability to treat you well? Turn the other cheek and continue taking it? Or, do you find peace in walking away and spending time with others who treat you with dignity? This could be argued both ways – in hopes of helping someone else out-grow their negative demeanor. But in the end, it’s their choice to be a better person; not my responsibility.

      • good point anna. i suppose true friendship means that you work it out, shake hands and continue laughing. sometimes humor can be as acute as as it is mean. and oftentimes inflection doesn’t show itself in the written word. i like to turn the other cheek, especially when it gets a slap in the face, it’s much easier to endure thatta way 🙂

        • BusyB & 23K

          Thank you for sound advice – appreciate your thought. Guess I’ve burned rubber off the bridge but haven’t torched the bridge because I’m a softy. Funny the very person who I’ve tried to empathize with refuses to walk in my shoes. Focused or some talented person could write a great poem, but I don’t have enough oxygen or coffee.

      • anna- I always make sure I have enough oxygen and coffee myself before I help others.

        When you’re strong you can help hurting people but when you weak they just make you feel depleted. Some people were just built to heal (absorb) others pain by listening or not striking back. I prefer to think of it as “silence is golden.”

        Just because you feel empathy for someone’s circumstances doesn’t mean you have to have them in your life. Everyone has a limit to BS and a person should be able to burn a few bridges in their life when needed.

        As they say, “hurt people hurt people.”

        • If ever I realize that I have angered or offended someone…which happens all too frequently I’m sad to say…before apologizing I try to put myself in their shoes…and walk a mile or two. That way…when they’ve finally realized what I’m up to…I’m more than a mile away…and they have no shoes. 🙂

          I’ve found it wise to pack matches and kerosene to deal with any bridges while taking an “empathy walk” in another’s shoes.

          I REALLY hope you all know that I’m just joking. 🙂 That’s a horrible way to live life.

          Laugh or cry, man. Laugh or cry.

  47. So I sat out this morning with this notion in mind
    To find a treasure with magic potion that’s not blind

    I stirred in some knowledge and added some time
    along with a few pages from notes that did rhyme

    My crystal ball is sitting by my side
    as he walked to treasure that he did hide

    on a knoll it sat, and long in wait
    what is I see, oh that’s just grate

    He takes a knee and then to a point
    His words are following him around that joint

    The sun beginning upon its rise
    The owl sits on the tree limb watching this disguise

    I stir the brew just a little more bit
    just to find my potion is not up to wit

    This man and his plan deep within the wood
    He sure did hide that treasure pretty darn good

    oh well to all I must say
    it may take at least one more full day

    For in this time we will find there is no failure
    I have seen what has brought men great pleasure

    Tomorrow be rest assured, I will try again
    To seek what is hidden by Forrest Fenn

    Now these are all word’s and all in good fun
    Next Time you see me please don’t bring your gun

    spoiler of fun, of this I am not
    I sure hope to show you what it is I have got.

    Of coarse this may take some more time to do
    Just know I’m home waiting upon my best brew

    Happy Halloween when it gets here! JB

  48. If you don’t have any passion, its best to find your drive,
    A few steps too slow, can leave you left behind.

    Think about that before you jump to you feet,
    Does your hunger really deserve a treat?

    I followed an old man one day from a bridge,
    He only kept walking, and then came upon a ridge,

    I didn’t know him, not from any Adam I’ve met,
    But I had to make sure, the old man had no regret.

    Before he fell, I yelled out as loud as I could,
    “Please don’t jump old man, I will make this good”

    He turned and looked at me, with a grin on his face,
    He said, “you saved me, now, get me out of this place”

    I took him to the café for a warm cup of tea,
    I looked him in eyes and said, you are coming with me.

    I showed him a poem, and he read it 90 times,
    Then he asked me a question, that stayed in my mind.

    He jumped in my truck, and pointed on the map,
    He said a treasure is there, now lets go get that.

    With no money in his pocket, I footed the bill,
    I still don’t know this guy, and we are headed for the hills.

    Many conversations in my old beat up truck,
    1500 miles, I sure hope this guy has luck,

    He rolled down the window and pointed over there,
    1000 more steps is all, and if you dare.

    We walked to a rock, that was shaped as an owl,
    There sat a treasure, Lets quickly go now!

    We made it back to the city of love,
    I dropped him off with half of the trove.

    Not one day will ever go by,
    That I don’t think of that wise old guy,

    With no family and just 1 friend,
    He spent his share on good investments.

    He made himself rich, from under a bridge,
    All because one man talked him off of a ridge.

    The old man had passed, but it was way too soon,
    I know his heart was full, and left with no wound.

    I was his only friend, that showed him the thrill,
    He was my only friend, that left me a will.

      • Dethroned ? Ok goldbug you opened the door. First off , I think won eye done a great job on his poem. And second , this page is not a competition page , there are amazing talents of pen shown here by many people, and nobody should be considered as on a ” throne “, especially me. I’m just enjoying the chase Forrest has given us. I’m not trying to compete with anyone . Before the chase, I have never wrote a poem before, Forrest has opened up my mind with the chase…..thank you Forrest ..there are many great people here on the poetry page including jdiggins,Cindym, michaelD, Anna,and yes woneyedwilly along with countless more with words that are a pleasure to read. I consider them my poetry friends not competitors. Give it a try goldbug , you have rhymes also wanting to be told.
        But a ” Throne “? I take that as a compliment and I thank you for even considering me as someone of that stature. I know you meant no harm, all in a choice of words, but in my book……there is one ” throne ” and it is already occupied and no one can take his spot……..
        I welcome you goldbug and also woneyedwilly to the poetry page, let’s have fun and get penning my friends…..

        Focused

    • Pretty good One eye! I see someone else besides me is being weird (going in the truck w a stranger to find treasure is a little weird). I’m just so weird today.

    • your avatar- something about a mean troll, and a bridge. Oh well a happy ending just the same. Yes, a rock

      • just my low-intellectual
        unintelligible
        whimsical
        warm-heartedSelf 🙂

        have a nice weekend, break a leg as they say in the business

    • Life is too short
      Or is it too long
      Only a viewpoint knows
      The bridge may be inviting
      Two some.

  49. Fixed my phone today, no more swype. 🙂

    Snowy mountains high
    And low as mini mountains go
    But where they end, no?

  50. Heres the thing about my mom
    This trip to her is quite the bomb
    and all her friends along the way
    She talks about day by day

    Her digging will just never stop
    There simply is no clock
    Restricting how long she’ll go
    I suppose we will never know
    What it is next she might find
    In book walk word or rhyme
    But one thing I do surely know
    She’ll never let her searching go

    • Great job Lilhunter, I really enjoyed your words…. not only does that fit your mom it also fits many, many searchers. great penning and keep up the good work…..your mom must be very proud of you…… 🙂 good luck to ya. and until next time….. see ya

    • ” Lilhunter’s Clock ”

      You say your mom, she has no clock,

      For in the chase, she’ll never stop.

      That may seem so, for when you look,

      But she pens of time, within her book.

      She’s using something, within her reach,

      Not just in mind, not in her speech.

      Lilhunter, I bet you truly know,

      What makes her tick, what makes her go,

      Now listen close, to words not said,

      Her clock is not, just in her head.

      Because of you , her heart does tick,

      A mom’s a mom, through thin and thick.

      Lilhunter, your mom is warm and true,

      Listen to her heart, while it ticks for you………

      By Focused

      That one is for you Lilhunter… I hope you liked it…. Keep up the good penning…. see ya…..

  52. Tattered clothes
    Broken soles
    Aches in inches
    Head to toes
    So much strain
    But so much fun
    Each time an adventure has begun

    On mountaintops
    Through steep terrain
    Maybe just on a plain
    In every climate you can guess
    But in just one you will find the chest

    So who is right?
    Or who is wrong?
    Though every trip is harsh and long

    But maybe we’ve all won a piece
    By using our head, hands, and feet
    To us the treasure is not just the chest
    But the steps, the laughs, the stress

    Through it all ive come to see
    The spontaneous adventures meant most to me

    • Great job Lil hunter , I believe you are right. The real treasure is in the chase itself. Keep up the good penning..good luck to you in the chase.. until next time……see ya

      • That’s my girlie!
        Thanks focused, what a beautiful poem you wrote for her. 🙂
        Guess I better catch up!
        Until next time…
        🙂

        • your welcome jdiggins, glad you liked it …I’m kinda behind too, I’m planning another trip next week, maybe I can get caught up before I go….good luck .. see ya

      • yes jdiggins, she done great on that one.. I myself can feel every word of it…. and so can thousands of others..lol

      • You know I have lol, and from the detail you go into every time youre back not just the once! 😀

  53. Im glad you all enjoyed that one. Ive got another little one I wrote due to both my parents this time. I think the last verse is my favorite.

    The first time she looked
    Into the book
    With a poem
    Hinting at treasure

    Her and my pops
    Couldnt quite stop
    Uncovering the clues together

    Didnt matter the date
    The responsibilities at stake
    The hot
    Or ice cold weather

    They were like kids
    Flipped their lids
    Id say crazy
    If I didnt know better

    Hope y’all like it!

    • I liked that one too Lilhunter, the chase seems to have that effect on all of us….. 🙂 good job…. I’M getting ready to flip my lid again soon….Heading to New Mexico next week…Somebody say ” Chase ” ? I’m in…….. see ya Lilhunter P.S. I like your words….keep it up..

      • Haha! Focused!
        I’ve already flipped my lid, and a few other things. I’ve got cabin fever! I miss my spot, but not sure if I want to find the chest just yet. 😉

        • jdiggins, not sure you want to find the chest yet? If you would then I could let my brain rest some..lol leaving my cabin after halloween… gotta get my spook out before I go…. lol see ya 🙂

          • I had thought mid november,,, we’ll see.
            It would be nice to move forward…
            While you’re getting your spook on, kindly share a bit on this page. Until then, or next time, 🙂

  54. My first trip down that river
    Made my skin bump and body quiver.

    Not simply because it was cold
    But also Cuz I was being bold.

    There were prints in the sand you see
    From something much bigger than me.

    I could feel the chill upon my back
    From creepy eyes peeping through a crack.

    I felt as though I might soon be lunch
    Could I get away in a crunch?

    Scared cat I am for what I can’t see
    It’s those things that truly frighten me.

    But needless worry Cuz I wasn’t the menu
    The return proved a goose was the venue.

    Still unnerving, and not for the meek
    but I can’t wait to retrace that creek!

    Just popped in my head, but it is very true!
    BOO! 🙂

  55. ” Dark Foggy Cabin ”

    While returning home, from a very long trip,

    Way down in October, the air had a nip.

    My eyes were heavy, from driving so long,

    Miles of staring, just listening to songs.

    The GPS shined, boldly there on my dash,

    My gas gauge was showing, I needed more gas.

    I seen a road, seemed a short way around,

    Where I’d get some gas, at a small country town.

    I made the turn, down the small road I went,

    Enjoying the warm air, that blew from my vents.

    As the sun was setting, my headlights came on,

    My sense of adventure, soon would be gone.

    This dark little road, with a blanket of fog,

    I jerked to the right, Barely missing a log.

    In just a few miles, my car it just quit,

    I ran out of gas, now scared, I quietly sit.

    I crack my window, and in came some fog,

    In the distant I hear, the faint bark of a dog.

    There must be a house, in the woods near by,

    What should I do? Should I give it a try?

    I can’t just sit here, in the dark all alone,

    I gotta get me some gas, so I can go home.

    I walked through the woods, wet, cold and dark,

    Closing in on the dog, that had a mean bark.

    I arrived at a cabin, way back in the woods,

    My hands are now shaking, I knew that they would.

    A small candle burns, in the window I see,

    The dog quickly turns, now he’s barking at me.

    The cabin door opens, an old man steps out,

    ” Who’s out there?” He started to shout.

    He pointed his light, brightly shined in my face,

    Standing there frozen, can’t move from my space.

    ” Who are you? ” and ” Why are you here?”

    In a deep roughened voice, that rang in my ears.

    I forced out the words, through the lump in my neck,

    ” I ran out of gas.” , ” About a mile back.”

    ” Don’t just stand there” , he said with a grin,

    ” My cabin is warm.” , and invited me in.

    He gave me some coffee, and loaned me his coat,

    “Be right back”, he said, while clearing his throat.

    Soon he came back, with a shiny gas can,

    He looked evil and mean, but he was a nice man.

    We jumped in his truck, and traveled, not far,

    He poured in my gas, and he started my car.

    His word, I’ll remember, as long as I live,

    In an old wrinkled voice, advice he did give.

    “Next time your out driving, on Halloween night”.

    ” Don’t take a back road , that’s dark with no light.”

    ” There’s dangers that live, out here in the dark,”

    ” with eyes that glow, and wolves that don’t bark.”

    ” I see your young, I see that your dareful ,”

    ” But to live and grow old, you gotta be careful.”

    As I drive off, I thought , What just happened?

    Thank God I met a nice man, at that dark foggy cabin………

    By: Focused

    Happy early Halloween , I just wanted to write a poem
    to remind everyone to make good choices, be safe and keep an
    eye on your kids….. have fun…..sorry about the legnth…. 🙂

      • Thanks Lilhunter , glad you liked it.. I just wanted to put a little spook in it and at the same time remind everyone ( especially kids) to make good choices and have fun this halloween… I think I achieved that in this one…..keep up the good penning yourself Lilhunter and take care…… see ya…….

      • Thanks MidLifeHnter, glad you liked it. About the publishing thing……I know nothing about how to do that…maybe someday…until then I’ll keep penning as long as someone likes reading it…good luck in the chase….until next time, see ya

        • Focused, Your writing is spectacular – enjoyed many. I would suggest you check a library for Writers and Poets magazine or writersandpoets.org There are many competitions and contests available. It is a great way for a new writer to get published – recognized – and then on his/her way into the field. It is a good way to enter the publishing field as being recognized – better than the self-publishing Amazon method IMO I believe you have the talent to succeed in a competitive arena. P.S. I am a former long-time English/journalism educator with 3 master degrees and believe you have a good chance.

          • Wow…. Thanks for the great compliment crowfeast. And thank you for the advice…I will check out the web site… I’m glad you enjoy my poems..just knowing that makes writing worthwhile.. Good luck to you in the chase….until next time….see ya

    • Happy Halloween to you too Focused! What a wonderful story and advice,,,Taking care to take us into old age 🙂

  56. Thank you Specialklr for your kind comment….happy early Halloween…
    See ya………….

  57. Miss o gin stayed
    Away from assent
    Safely tucking away 6 and sixty trips
    Into pointless oblivion
    While Panza laughed with Tanta and Kimos lobby.
    The chest had two green eyes, and a green heart. Only love will prevail.

  58. ” A Single Seed ”

    Life is like a planted seed, when nourished it will grow ,

    Is a seed less pampered , still apt to live and glow?

    A single seeds important , each and every one ,

    Game of life depends on , all seeds , growing in the sun.

    Of course all seeds are needed , in this game of life we play,

    Poker or a game of chess , one seed could save the day.

    Happiness is our final goal , as our seed begins to grow,

    Is the seeds around us , also ready to make their show?

    The seed begins to slowly rise , making it’s first debut ,

    Pot of clay enhances , it’s overall lovely view.

    Fate it plays a special part , while the small seed starts to rise,

    Deals to it the sun and rain , from up within the skies.

    You watch the plant grow larger , proud and standing tall,

    Four seasons later , fully grown , admired by each and all.

    Cards to place within the pot , so others will know it’s name,

    And let it have it’s glory , and proudly show it’s fame.

    A seed it has a special roll , like all cards within a deck,

    Joker may hold the highest rank , but to all , it’s just a speck.

    You may think , at different times , your seeds not gonna grow,

    Play your part , and nourish it , I promise you it will glow.

    Whether your seed is young , or your seed has fully grown,

    You have the means within you , your heart has always known.

    Like the world around you , your happiness will shine through,

    It all begins with a tiny seed , that lives deep inside of you.

    Or is it all the other seeds , that you should nourish too?

    Not to focus , on just your seed , beautiful gardens begin with two………

    By: Focused

    Just messing around …. Read down the first word in every sentence
    It reads…..

    Life is a game of poker,
    Happiness is the pot.
    Fate deals you four cards and a joker,
    You play whether you like it or not.

      • Not really clever Specialklr , just goofing around. I have done this before with other sayings, this one was a tough one to use….it ended up a little choppy..lol a lot easier to free write…oh well …all in fun…..glad you liked it….see ya.

  59. ” Indian Spirits ”

    Alone I walked into the desert, and sat upon a rise,

    Nothing for miles around me, then closed my watering eyes.

    I listened close to words not said, that’s carried in the wind,

    Spirits of the desert Indian, who called this home back then.

    The breeze is very gentle, and my breathing very slow,

    I’m visited by an Indian boy, who lived so long ago.

    He tells me of the name he had, they called him “Running Bird”.

    Through his spirit I listened , while clinging to every word.

    The desert it was dry and harsh, in “Running Birds” daily life,

    He gathered wood, for the fires, and practiced with his knife.

    Knowing someday, a brave he’d be, an honor of every man,

    He wanted to be the bravest brave, that ever walked this land.

    The sun is setting lower, and a young girls voice I hear,

    The wind has brought her here to me, she whispers in my ear.

    She says her name is “Yellow Cloud”, Born at the setting sun,

    She helps her mom prepare the meals, enjoyed by everyone.

    Knowing someday a wife she’d be, she wanted to be prepared.

    She also wore two eagle feathers, tied in her long black hair.

    The tribe was very happy, everyone played their part,

    The spirit of the desert Indian, lived deep within their hearts.

    Next I heard an old mans voice, also carried in the wind,

    He said he was a mighty chief, for that desert tribe back then.

    He told me of a special day, many , many years ago,

    They shouted, sang and danced, before the winter snows.

    Because of two young Indians, all chants they could be heard.

    The joining hearts of “Yellow Cloud”, and her young brave ” Running Bird”.

    The sun is setting very low, and the wind is dying down,

    Time for me to leave this place, and head back into town.

    Before I leave, I raise my hands, Say bye to “Running Bird”,

    “Yellow Cloud” and the mighty “Chief”, and thanked them for their words.

    Next time your out in the desert, and your walking all alone,

    Take the time, listen to spirits, of the Indians who called this home……..

    By: Focused

      • Thanks straw shadow…glad you liked it…leaving in a couple days for the desert myself…last one for the season…good luck to you in the chase. Until next time….see ya

          • Sorry I didn’t make myself clear. I’m going on my chase, and to check out my solve. ( New Mexico ).
            I will still be writing poems here for everyone to enjoy. It will just me my last search before the winter snows take over….sorry about the confusion straw shadow……until next time…..see ya

    • A hard wired, and judicious conclave. Thank you for such an enlightening piece of poetry. Winter is a very reflective season. As always, it’s a blessing to read your words. Hear me all and listen good. Thank you Focused!

      B

    • Great poetry, Focused. I too love the desert. Your poem reminded me of this song. You’ll see that most…if not all…of the video was filmed in New Mexico. I have my eye fixed on New Mexico as well.

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1UUYjd2rjsE

      New Mexico…not where the treasure lies…where the Treasure IS.

      Good luck on your search. I hope to be headed out one more time before Thanksgiving also. If we’re both thinking the same thing maybe we’ll see each other. I used to run around like a madman. Now I just saunter along with a ponderous stare. Always one more place to look…or one more place to look again.

      Be careful out there. It’s getting cold.

    • I love the way you spin a tale in your poetry focused,,, (or incorporate rhyming words in your stories). Either way, this is one of my favorites 🙂

      Stay safe and have fun !!!

      • Thank you CindyM, I try not to write confusing poetry ( there is plenty of that out there ). I want “everyone” to enjoy my words and understand them. It’s not about how fancy the words are….it’s about how you speak them….glad you like this one CindyM….more to come…….see ya

          • Focused? What Focused? Lol, ha, ha, we are all human, aren’t we? You did catch yourself and realigned your focus. Good catch. I apologize for the chuckle. I tend to see humorous irony in this. Now it causes me to ponder, is “Focused” past or present tense? Dang it, now I won’t be able to sleep tonight. Maybe I will count football referees jumping yardlines since it is football season. Should I include a kicker practicing his punts? Oops, now I’m the one losing focus. Ha, ha, ha… That’s funny. Let’s see, since this is the poetry page…

            Roses are red,
            Violets are blue.
            I thought violet is purple,
            Is it false or is it true?

    • Indian Spirits. My apologies, focused, I quoted the incorrect title, in my earlier comment, and that, by all means, calls for clarification!
      Such a beautiful poem. Truly, I FELT it. 🙂

  60. Thanks JC1117, I really enjoyed that video…..a lot of resemblance to my words …nice…good luck in the chase…until our trails cross….see ya

    • Focused, I really enjoy your poetry and words. Take care out in NM. It is cold, very cold – frost over night and in some ski areas, snow already. I hope to capture a few winter pics of my spot. Who knows – maybe I’ll see you there!

      • Thanks crowfeast…. Today was nice in Santa Fe….some snow high….I hope you get your pics….. See ya

        • Hi Focused, I went for winter pics and it turned out to be 62 degrees! What’s up with this weather? Santa Fe is beautiful. The only snow I saw was on far away (perhaps CO) mountains. I will have to re-visit for pics with some white flakes and without mega snow drifts 🙂 Hope you are having fun!

  61. Each year the number changes
    For which I state my age
    And with each one tacked on to the ending
    I write another page

    For every time I figure
    My road blocks have now cleared
    Ten foggy roads fill my path, they suddenly appear

    No one said it would be easy
    But we all pretend anyway
    That this game of life
    Might lend us an easier stay

    Not to say its all bad news
    Just a few skinned knees and a bruise
    A broken bone here or there
    But we heal to be fair

    I just suppose it doesnt matter
    Because without thunder and rain
    We wouldn’t see rainbows
    Or the beauty that keeps us sane

    In the end getting older
    Doesnt have to be so bad
    But I definately understand
    Why they said we’d miss what we had

    Back when, I mean, when we were kids
    And everything seemed so tough
    It really was a cake walk
    The troubles we said were rough

    But hey, im counting up,
    getting older just like you
    And through all the ups and downs
    The best thing is, I grew.

    • I am not a poetry fan, generally. So I am unsure whether me thinking this is a really good poem means it is, or not. It is for me. Good ’nuff.

        • Just got back from new Mexico a few days ago spallies. I plan on another trip soon…what about you ?

          • Focused, not until spring then I am heading to a spot in Wyoming I’ve always wanted to get to… Would also like to swing by Cody and the Buffallo Bill Center of the West on the way… Hoping there might also be another book signing before then in Sante Fe since I wasn’t able to make the last one… Forrest quick write another book! Lol 🙂

          • Dear focused,
            I hope your trip was fun, er, well, it must’ve been if you’re already planning anew. 🙂
            I love the seed, and, Indian braves, focused. You truly have a gift and you inspire me to do better.
            et al;
            Sorry, I’ve been absent, if you will, I’ve been “under the weather”, of sorts.
            But smiles come from this page, and I thank you focused, and everyone else here! 🙂

            And, lilhunter appears to be a rising star! 😉

      • Yes Jdiggins I had fun…i’M glad your feeling better…your welcome for the smiles…lol. until next time..see ya

  63. This was actually a “vision” I’ve had more than once.

    Indian Brave
    (no plagiarism intended, focused, 😉 )

    I was once an Indian brave,
    But to my gender, I was a slave.

    I was not like my older brothers,
    But stronger than many others.

    I would steal away to riverbank
    In my fringed, worn leather dress.
    I would kneel, sit upon both heel,

    Slide my blade from right flank,
    Place it in front of me and bless
    The spirits whose company I’d steal.

    Women are not brave enough
    To be called upon to hunt

    Words that were full of bluff
    I chose to play the front.

    at the village I was who they see
    At the riverbank I could be me.

    a woman, a warrior, and all alone,
    here where the spirits call it home.

  64. Hi diggens!

    You made me think about the great time we had at the Book signing. Too bad we cant get together with the rest of the gang and spread some rumors and crazy hunting tales. I sure had fun with you and Bill Gorman. Looking forward to the next time.

    Keep up your wonderful spirit.
    Your friend the DEMOMAN!

    • Hey doug! Awesome fun it was! Great pool players too!
      I sure hope the future does hold an opportunity for a reunion, of sorts! I loved the signing, the after party, and the after, after party. Everyone is so fun!

    • That was great Jdiggins…I really like your words…keep it up….always a pleasure to read..until next time…see ya…

  65. LEGACY (What this chase is about)

    I love starry nights.
    When I was young, I used to flop
    on the tall, tawny grass
    in Fox Run Field
    and stare at the shimmering indigo sky.
    On my back, with arms tucked behind my head
    I had the grandest view of the heavens.
    Sometimes Grandpop would kneel
    beside me and point with his farm-muscled arms.
    “Did God spill his diamond chips again?”
    And I would laugh, rolling in the grass,
    loving the scratchy, spicy feeling.

    I miss those nights with Grandpop.
    I miss his unconditional smile,
    his easy laugh,
    his bedtime Bible stories,
    and his long, gentle fingers
    that smoothed the hair out of my eyes
    when I cried.
    But, most of all,
    I miss his eyes.
    His eyes winked a billion stars.
    God put some very special stars in my Grandpop’s eyes.
    He put the stars within my reach.

    • Mindy your grandpop would be proud…

      As long as there is stars in the skies,

      You’ll always see your grandpops eyes.

      Just take the time, to gaze at them.

      And cherish those memories, you have of him.

      Time may seem cruel, but means no harm,

      Someday in time, You’ll be back in his arms………

      I liked your words Mindy, good luck to ya in the chase..
      Until next time… see ya

      Focused

  66. Since tomorrow is Veterans Day I wanted to rewrite a poem I wrote in the “Poetry page ll ” section a while back. I think this is a fitting poem for a special day for some special hero’s… I hope everyone likes it…. My ” Thank You” to all Veterans and current soldiers………

    ” 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 all live.

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

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

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

    No matter what the outcome, a soldier’s 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 all you 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

    • So proud to be in ranks with you, focused.
      My hand, first in salute, then out to shake.

      You serve us poetry hogs well.

      And Mindy, I loved your words too! Beautiful!

      Thx everyone!

      (Have to multi post, bad connect)

    • Beautiful, mindy!
      Focused, ……my turn. 🙂

      It truly is a shame
      So many have to die
      Some without a name
      And nobody knows why

      For what reason does a man
      Feel the need to fight
      Help me to understand
      The need to kill, to prove I’m right.

      It makes no sense to me
      Why countries go to war
      Soldiers fight for country
      But do they know what for?

      A soldier stands tall and proud
      And follows every order
      He’ll state his honor out loud
      And fight for every border

      but we really should just stop
      And try instead to love.
      a prayer for all who fought
      In the ground, and above.

      God Bless our soldiers of all time.

      • I have to say you done great on that one jdiggins… I loved it and I’m sure many soldiers did too….keep up your great penning. I enjoy your talent….until we meet again….see ya

  67. Here’s my Veteran’s Day Haiku:

    A wife cries, alone.
    The folded flag in her lap–
    Just wanting him home.

  68. For the Fallen – by Laurence Binyon
    As it appeared in the Times just a few weeks before WWI began but was crushingly imminent and on everyone’s minds.

    They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
    Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
    At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
    We will remember them.

  69. That was a fitting contribution. Thx dal.

    And cindym, wiseone, and focused, thank you for your kind words! 🙂

  71. Thanks for posting this, dal. 🙂

    I’ll definately tell my daughter!

    Happy veterans day to you, dal. 🙂

  72. Inspired by SB 148:

    It’s midnight in a hot Texas town,
    A newborn baby cries;
    A mother smiles softly down,
    While Father looks on in pride.

    It’s 2:00 am on a cool Texas eve
    A tired father sighs;
    A young boy weeps into his sleeve,
    Then out the window he flies.

    It’s 7:00 am Temple time
    A boy detours for pie;
    He smiles and gladly pays his dime
    Under a cold December sky.

    It’s 10:00 am, a Texas spring day
    A boy takes aim to the right;
    A robin sees and ducks out of the way
    Meadowlarks for supper tonight.

    It’s noontime in Montana blue
    A boy lost, his friend in tow;
    Where they are they have no clue,
    But at least the horses know.

    It’s 2:00 pm in the hot Nam sky
    The boy is now a man;
    He checks O2 by blinking eye
    Then suddenly, a change of plan.

    It’s 3:00 pm in jungle steam
    The man takes a calming breath;
    Father and bluegills seem a long lost dream
    But much better than thoughts of death.

    It’s 5:00 pm on the jungle floor
    And help is on the way;
    A welcome sound — the Jolly’s roar
    He will survive this day.

    It’s 7:00 pm in hip Santa Fe
    The man enjoys a new life;
    Mingling with stars in the bright of day
    And loving his girls and his wife.

    It’s 9:00 pm Santa Fe fall
    A ruin has captured his soul;
    The life that played out behind this wall
    Comes alive with each bead and bowl.

    It’s 10:00 pm in Santa Fe rain
    The family gathers round;
    The man dreads what he must now explain
    “Cancer” has such a terrible sound.

    It’s 11:00 pm in Wyoming sand
    The man rights a fallen stone;
    He offers a piece of his heart to the land
    And he performs this feat alone.

    It’s midnight now and all is right
    The man sits alone by the fire;
    He wishes to reminisce long into the night
    And gives in to that desire.

    It’s a little after the midnight hour
    Springtime ever drawing nigh;
    A rendezvous near some fated bower–
    The man spreads his wings to fly…

  73. Mindy, loved the poem…what happens after the the flight?

    Feels like its missing a book end…for fun you can just repeat your first verse leaving some blanks for suspense:

    It’s midnight in a hot _____ town,
    A newborn baby cries;
    A mother smiles softly down,
    While _____ looks on in pride.

  74. A little late but this is for Veterans day and Paris.

    When I sleep I hear guns
    See cryin mothers
    Holding their sons
    As they head off into war
    Will they come back?
    We’re never sure

    When I wake i see the screen
    Tales of bombs
    And hearts that bleed
    As terror strikes our world again
    When will peace rise
    And evil end?

    When I walk about this world
    I find the good
    The small dazzling pearl
    I take in the kindness
    The understnding
    That allows our grief a softer landing

    When I ponder all alone
    The good and bad
    the world has known
    I wish that possibly,
    one day
    The evil will simply fade away

  75. NEVER TOO LATE

    Ask yourself one question right now.
    What is my truest dream?

    I’ve been chasing gold and thought I was bold
    but what does it all even mean?

    Maybe you’ve been working too much
    and run out of steam?

    It’s never to late to ask yourself
    what else might have been.

    Set your sights on the horizon
    and make a solid plan.

    Put sails in a new destination
    and you will find your way.

    23kachinas

  77. “I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.”
    ― Lewis Carroll

  78. Our task is to free ourselves from this delusional prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace the whole of nature in its beauty.

    The world goes on, the sun and the sweet rain, move over the prairies and forests, the mountains and rivers. And we are together in reality.

    The wild geese, are heading to the bosque again. Whoever you are, the world offers itself to your imagination to fly.

    I feel my soul expand to embrace with the flow of nature, scented air, mountains, trees, and sage. I think, this is what it is to be alive.

    • That was very nice Michael Hendrickson…I believe everyting you mentioned is a very small part of ” Being Alive “…. in order to see earths true beauty, you have to feel it in your heart first…. keep up the good work Michael and fly…….. good luck to ya in the chase… until next time …. see ya…..

  79. ” Around The Family Table ”

    Sitting here, reflecting back, Thanksgivings of the past,

    Cherishing all the memories made, memories that will last.

    Turkey thawing on the counter, It’s now Thanksgiving Eve,

    Right beside the biggest ham, I believe I’ve ever seen.

    My sister she is bringing, her good ole Mac & Cheese,

    The stuffing made by brother, is sure enough to please.

    Mashed potatoes, creamy smooth, brought by my Uncle Dan,

    Fresh made rolls, all buttered, from my other sister Jan.

    Pumpkin pie with cool whip, my niece said she would bring,

    My wife’s in charge of apple pie, It’ll make your taste buds sing.

    Green beans wrapped in bacon, brought by my eldest son,

    He always has an empty dish, they’re loved by everyone.

    I’ll have the turkey golden brown, ready for Grandpa Ken,

    While carving he will tell us stories, how hard life was back then.

    My Nephew usually brings, a surprise that he whips up,

    Not good in the kitchen, cooking mainly on his luck.

    It will be a special day, when tomorrow does arrive,

    The joining of my family, a break from our busy lives.

    To sit around the table, and enjoy Thanksgiving dinner,

    All the stories, all the smiles, where everyone’s a winner.

    There’s so much I am thankful for, I know where I should start,

    I’ll start by thanking God above, for my healthy beating heart.

    For being right beside me, at a time that was so grim,

    Because of God, I write these words, I owe it all to him.

    I’m thankful for my family, who never left my side,

    I know I can’t repay them, no matter how I try.

    The sun comes up, the sun goes down, each and every day,

    For life I am so thankful, nothing more that I can say.

    Take some time, on Thanksgiving Day, give thanks to God above,

    For all that you are thankful for, and thank him for his love.

    Take a look around “your” table, just look and you will see,

    Be thankful for the time you have, with your loving FAMILY…………

    By : Focused

    I would like to wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving, enjoy your day

    with family and friends….. see ya……

  80. Giving thanks for ones so dear
    Guide them safely from far and near,,,

    Hugs and smiles warm up the cold
    As stories of the year past unfold,,,

    Hear the bustle in the kitchen
    The smell of a feast is bewitching,,,

    Children’s laughter though the house
    Cause the sport fans to shush and grouse,,,

    Finally, the turkey is on the table
    Belts are loosened if we’re able,,,

    But as we gather this Thanksgiving Day
    May we bow our heads to pray!!!

    For all my Fenn friends; those with big ginormous families, Itty bitty barely families, and those who are alone this day,,, I am thankful for you all for you are family to me.

    PS. Great poem Focused!

  81. Good job CindyM, I liked that…..yes we are one big happy family here….enjoy Thanksgiving CindyM, remember to leave room for pie…. …until next time….see ya

  82. ” Whiskey River ”

    I’m addicted to a whiskey bottle , It’s tearing me apart ,

    I’m Rafting down a whiskey river , I’ve broken many hearts.

    Day by day I drift along , no oars within my hands,

    No control where I drift , I know that this must end.

    Soon this whiskey river , will pass through rocky walls ,

    This raging river will kill me , with its whiskey waterfalls.

    I know I need to find a way , to make it to the shore,

    And leave my bottle in my raft, to drift forever more.

    My family I’ve neglected , my friends I’ve pushed away ,

    It didn’t matter much to me , if I had my bottle each day.

    time has come, I’ll take my chance , and jump from this crazy boat,

    into the raging whiskey river , I’ll swim to stay afloat.

    No one can make me do it , the courage I must find ,

    And show my friends and family , I’ve left the bottle behind.

    This whiskey river I’m floating in , will soon be of the past,

    And with a jump I entered , the evil river with a splash.

    I fought, fought and struggled, the whiskey had its hold,

    I beat the raging whiskey river , on solid rock I hold.

    Then Raised up to my feet , amazed at what I saw,

    Downstream the river disappeared, over a whiskey waterfall.

    The bottle I have conquered , alone and proud I stand,

    From this day on I promised God, to be a different man.

    My Family and friends await me , they worry that I have drowned,

    But I can’t wait to show them , the courage that I have found.

    From this day on I promise myself , I’ll never raft again,

    Down that whiskey river , with currents made of sin.

    If your floating on a whiskey river , and your floating all alone ,

    Find your courage , jump and swim , your family waits at home………….

    By : Focused

    • Excellent Focus! I do hope friends are available soon after the leap in all of our lives struggles

      • Thanks uken2it , many are now fighting their own inner battle… I just wanted them to know that they can win….. Glad you liked it…….see ya…..

    • Focus,
      Your poem will surely enCourage those struggling with addictions.

      When all said and done, may it be said of us that we fought the good fight, finished the race, and remained faithful to God, family, friends.

      • I hope it encourages at least one person lia….if so , then my words were worth it….good luck to you Lia……see ya

        • Thanks Focussed, Your words encouraged me to move past chasing dreams which will never materialize, and find peace in doing so.

          Sending you warmest wishes.

          • Thanks lia, chasing dreams is a good thing….never give up on your dreams….good luck to ya lia

    • Whiskey, wine or beer…
      Of these waters stay clear!

      Great job focused. Sadly, many ride these rivers of some sort. May they take out before the falls! 🙂

  84. Focused –

    You should be famous with your poetry………

    I wonder if you’ve ever written anything about a parent passing….My Mom just did and I know Stephanies Dad (over on Chase chat) just died too…….

    • Into , I don’t know about famous…lol. Thanks for your kind words anyways. No I haven’t written anything about a parent passing….but my next one will be for you and Stephanie k ….. I hope I don’t let ya down….that’s a tender subject , but I will try k….good luck to ya in the chase…..see ya Into…

        • Thank you CindyM, that one was for into, Stephanie’s poem for her dad will come soon…I felt it would be impersonal to combine them…thank you on the ” Whiskey River” comment…..glad you liked it..good to here from ya CindyM, take care……see ya…

  85. ” Note To Mom ”

    Silence fills my grieving ears, since you’ve gone away,

    Even though you’ve left me , I hear your voice each day.

    Sometimes I even answer , and softly speak aloud,

    I know that you can hear me , while resting on your cloud.

    I tried and tried , to prep myself , for your final day,

    It didn’t make a difference , the pains here anyway.

    I know your in a better place , with shiny golden streets ,

    But does that make me greedy , to want you here with me?

    Mom I miss your loving heart , your tender words to me ,

    Mom I miss your laughter , your warm felt company.

    Mom I miss eyes , with their caring tender gaze,

    Mom I’ll miss your comfort hugs, until my final day.

    Time has taken you away, Mom , it seems unfair to me,

    But time will join us once again, this time for eternity.

    Until that day , I want you to know , I’m doing my very best,

    Mom I’ll carry you here with me , deep within my chest.

    You’ve taught me what I need to know, I know what I should do,

    But, looking in the mirror Mom, I am a reflection of you.

    I am strong , as were you , were two peas in a pod,

    On earth I’ll sit , and patiently wait , while your walking in heaven with God………

    LOVE AND MISS YOU MOM !

    By: Focused

    This one is for you ” Into”.. You wanted me to write one for you, since
    Your Mom passed away…… I hope you like it….sorry for your loss…
    I know she is looking down on you with a proud motherly smile…
    Until next time …..see ya…take care…….

      • “Wings ? ”

        Jdiggins there’s a story , I think you’d like to hear.

        About a certain angel, that evil truly feared.

        He was a one winged angel , one wing upon his back.

        Even though he’s different, he truly had the knack.

        He’d fly around in circles, beautiful artwork in his trust.

        Spiraling up into the clouds, trailing angel dust.

        All the angels loved him, though he only had one wing.

        They’d stop and Hoover in one place, while watching, they would sing.

        Cheering on that one wing angel, graceful in his art.

        You can hear them singing, Jdiggins, if you listen to your heart.

        When my day does arrive, and I meet the mighty King.

        You bet i’m gonna tell him, that this angel, only wants one wing……………

        That one is for you Jdiggins, just messing
        Around with ya some……have a great day…see ya….

        • That’s a great poem, Focused. The One Winged Angel. Must be a little humorous to watch…to be honest. Maybe the other Angels sing a song about “( ), the One Winged Angel”…kinda like Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. 🙂

          It nice, though, that all of the other Angels don’t exclude ( ), the One Winged Angel from the Angel Games…or laugh and call Him (or Her) names. They are Angels after all…not devils. 🙂

          http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/jimihendrix/littlewing.html

        • I think you’ve been spying on me! Tee hee! I love it! I think that means tag! I’m it…okay..give me a few… 🙂

          • You may laugh at focused
            As he fails around
            His one wing a flapping
            And one foot off the ground.

            It really is quite the sight
            I truly ought to know
            I had the same encounter
            Everywhere I’d go.

            I tried to hide it
            That I only had one wing
            I was quite embarrassed
            Of the obnoxious thing.

            But along came focused
            Such a beauty to see
            How one of God’s angels
            Could fly so free.

            He saw a tear from my eye
            And came floating down
            “Why the tears?” He asked
            And so I turned around.

            “Ah, I see,” said focused
            And with a little brush
            He started flapping his wing
            Looked at me and gave a push.

            I could fly, I had wings!
            Not one, but two!
            Focused gave me his wing
            So I could fly too.

            So do not laugh as he spins
            And does his thing
            For its because of me
            He only has one wing.

    • Focused –

      I love it …….How very precious – and so very special for me…..I shall copy it and treasure it always. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You are truly a treasure.

      • Thank you into , I’m glad you liked my words……remember , your mom may have left , but she is still right there with you……your welcome into from the bottom of my heart too……..take care…see ya

  86. Great job Jdiggins, I loved that one….especially the part with my one foot on the ground…..lol……..well you know I would give you a wing if you needed it…I would also give away my other one if someone else needed a wing too….I don’t mind walking….. :-). I really enjoyed your words Jdiggins, thank you my friend……see ya next time I’m flapping around in your neighborhood…….take care

    • Fun is where u find it! 😉
      Glad you liked it focused.
      Glad uken2it and cindym liked it too.
      Yep, we’re all a bunch of flappers! 🙂

  87. Focused and Jdiggings,,,

    I find subliminal hints
    In the poems that you share,,,
    When searching for the treasure
    I need a wing and a prayer!

    Thanks for your fun, wise, and witty words 🙂

    • CindyM,
      In the chase we all need a wing and a prayer..lol
      Good to hear from ya , good luck to ya …….see ya friend…..

  88. ” Wild & Free ”

    As I hike through morning the fog , My trail disappears in grey,

    Soon it will lift, as time moves on , and slowly rise away.

    Then I will see much farther down, this narrow path I stroll,

    But Until it does I guess I’ll sit , atop of this foggy knoll.

    While sitting on the trailside , my mind it drifts away,

    To a time when I was hiking , on a bright and sunny day.

    Way up in the mountains , I was far from any town,

    Walking along a cliffside , nervous , and looking down.

    I found the strength within myself , to stop there on that trail,

    Admiring the beauty, a lone bald eagle, upon the wind he sailed.

    I remember when the eagle landed , upon a old dead tree.

    Oh the beauty in his stance , so proud to be wild and free.

    The freedom that I felt that day , while the eagle posed for me,

    Nothing could really match it , I too was wild and free.

    I could fly along these trails, no care where they might end,

    Alone and wild , free as wind , thanks to my feathered friend.

    Freedom comes in many forms , each person has their own,

    I found mine , on the trail that day , as I slowly roamed.

    Now the fog begins to rise , I’ll soon be on my way ,

    I’ll leave this knoll , continue on , just listen to what I say.

    Free yourself and take the time , to walk along a trail,

    Go and find your freedom , and listen to the eagles wail.

    You will not be sorry , you’ll have a heck of a day ,

    All the troubles , you had in town , I promise will drift away………….

    By: Focused

      • Your welcome Specialklr , I noticed that on the first line it was suppose to read ” the morning fog” ….lol…. Oh well..I guess I need to proof read before posting….I have a bad case of just typing them out, then sending them….I do that a lot…..have a good evening… See ya…..

      • ” Note From Dad ”

        Wherever your life may take you,

        You will always be daddy’s girl.

        Go and cherish , all you do,

        I know you’ll give it a whirl .

        Will you for me , just take the time

        Be faithful in your heart?

        There so much in heaven’s shine,

        With me among the stars.

        You will miss me, as I miss you,

        Stephanie , your are so Great,

        Love to hug you , once again,

        Dad waits at heaven’s gate……….

        By: Focused

        Stephanie, sorry to hear about the loss of your dad , I know he is watching from
        Heaven , very proud of his girl……
        If you read down the first word of every sentence in this poem it reads…

        ” wherever you go I will be there with you Stephanie , Love Dad ”

        For those of you who don’t know, Stephanie is over at (chase chat).

          • Thanks CindyM, I take that as a very good compliment…….I just hope Stephanie likes it….. Take care and good luck in the chase….see ya..

    • Focused, I must confess,
      Your words lift me. I’ve been so sad. I try to stay away when I’m sad, I don’t like to spread negative energy. But I see in my notifications, poetry page, and I gotta look. 🙂
      Thank you, focused, for being you, for your big heart and wonderful words. 🙂

      • Your welcome Jdiggins, sorry to hear that you’ve been down. ……. No Thank you for your words here, they are also very lifting and some funny too. You and CindyM and some others on the poetry page has inspired me to try to write better, before the chase I had never written a poem before, I’m new at this…thanks to you guys for putting up with my mistakes….here on the poetry page we are all pals , so smile Jdiggins and let “your “big heart shine…..we all have sad moments , during those times friends really help……..good luck to you in the chase……until next time…..see ya my friend….. 🙂

        • Your poetry is so eloquent and polished, Focused. You write like a pro. And it makes me feel extremely satisfied and proud that I, along with all your poetry friends, am able to be inspiring 🙂

          Keep on keeping on, I love your words 🙂

      • This is for you Jdiggins. I thinks you’re special 🙂

        The Imagine Nation

        If you’re feeling sad and blue
        And can’t find your elation.
        There’s only one thing left to do,,,
        Join the Imagine Nation.

        You can travel around the world,
        Or search for treasures bold,
        Or fly the skies with your wing unfurled,
        Or camp out and pan for gold.

        And if you find your brain in pain,
        Or troubles upon your heartstrings tug.
        In your Imagine Nation your poetry friends remain
        Here, at the ready, with a smile and a hug.

  89. You guys rock! Thanks again focused, cinym, and uken2it, and all the poetry pallies…spallie…thanks for making the chase even more fun than I think forrest even imagined it would be. Thanks Dal for the room. And without the author…well…
    Thank you forrest.

  90. Every now and then it’s nice to return
    to the places you loved as a child,
    where the meadows were green in your tattered blue jeans
    and your spirit was free to roam wild.

    It sure can’t hurt to try, lol.

  91. ” Private Treptow 1918″

    On the 19th day of January , in 1894,

    He was born , unto this country, a man we all adore.

    Way up in Wisconsin, near bloomer I am told,

    Is where my hero grew up, and his chilling story unfolds.

    The world was at unrest , and times were very hard,

    In 1917 he joined up with , the Iowa National guards.

    World war 1 was in full swing, and now was in his vision,

    Once he joined, he became part , of the much famed “Rainbow Division”.

    He served his time, as a runner, a carrier of all letters,

    Between the Companies, fast he ran, no one could it better.

    On the 29th day , in the month of July, bullets flew through the skies.

    The letter he carried, along the river, could save his brothers lives.

    The bullets finally found him, he fell down to the ground,

    Though Laying in the battlefield, he could barely hear the sounds.

    Then He took his final breath , there on the bank of the river,

    The Words found written in his diary , when read they’ll make you shiver.

    A pledge he has written , although he wants no thanks,

    Explains why he laid for us, there on that river bank.

    Private Treptow he fought for us, up until the time he fell,

    So we can live, and enjoy the sound, of mighty freedoms bell.

    I know that you can see me, I hope this will suffice,

    I salute to you, brave soldier, for paying the ultimate price……….

    By:Focused

    Private Treptow was honored by Ronald Reagan at the end
    Of his Inaugural Address speech . Below is the “pledge” of
    Martin A. Treptow of the 168th Infantry Regiment, 84th
    Brigade, in the 42nd ” Rainbow ” Division. ” World War 1″

    ” America must win this war. Therefore I will work, I will save,
    I will sacrifice , I will endure, I will fight cheerfully and do my
    Utmost, as if the issue of the whole struggle depended on me alone.”

    Martin A. Treptow

  93. ” The Christmas Carol ”

    While sitting on the sofa , my doorbell began to ring,

    Walking to my front door, I then could hear them sing.

    Before I opened up the door , I knew what I would see,

    People dressed in festive clothes, singing just for me.

    When I pulled the door Aside , they were standing in a row,

    Singing ” Silent Night ” for me, their faces how the glowed.

    Each person singing proudly, standing straight and tall,

    While listening to their singing words, the snow began to fall.

    It didn’t seem to phase them, each person singing proud,

    Just for me and me alone , as if I were a crowd.

    While they stood there singing, I looked up in the sky,

    Snowflakes landing on my face, oh what a holy night.

    When the song was finished, they turned and walked away,

    Left me standing there alone , in my cold doorway.

    Thinking about this time of year , what it really meant,

    My mind awaken by the sounds, of the angels God has sent.

    “Born within a stable, they came from miles around,

    To see the mighty holy king , and hear his holy sound.”

    Please don’t sit there on your sofa, waiting for your bell to ring.

    Go and show your thanks to God, this Christmas go and sing.

    I just opened my gift from him, he gave me years ago,

    All because of ” Silent Night “, they sang there in the snow.

    My heart is full of Christmas past, just busting at the seams,

    I think I’ll walk on down the street, and help them as they sing.

    Merry Christmas everyone, my friends from shore to shore,

    Listen close , you might just hear me, singing right outside your door……….

    By: Focused

    I just wanted to say Merry Christmas to everyone, and enjoy your
    Time with your family……….. God Bless……

    • Focussed, simply beautiful!

      Joyeux Noel
      Feliz Navidad
      Fröhliche Weihnachten
      God Jul!

      In any language Merry Christmas!
      May you all have joy in your hearts as you celebrate the miracle of Christ’s incarnate birth.

      Warmest wishes to the Fenn family, Dal and his lovely wife, goofy, and all on Dal’s blog.

    • Merry Christmas Focused. It would be fun to join your group of carolers. For your comfort, I’d insist you wear a noise protection device. 🙂 (earplugs).

      Seriously, your poetry is always direct and beautiful and I look forward to each and every one. Thanks for a year full of fun.

      • Thank you CindyM, hey if I was in that singing line-up you would need more than earplugs…. I sound like a Fort Worth chicken in a coop , being chased by Indians…lol.
        I’m glad you like reading my words, I try to keep them simple , so everyone can understand them…..and thank you CindyM for the fun you created here on this poetry bandwagon…….. Merry Christmas to you and your family, …….see ya

    • Focused, would it be wrong to say I love you! 🙂 jk, but really, I do love your words!
      You brought back a good memory of when I was eleven. My father had passed, my mother was drunk, and brothers and sister scattered, so I was a “street kid”, more or less. My best friend and I wanted to do something nice for others that Christmas, so we went to the senior living complex nearby and knocked on doors, caroling as each opened. Nevermind we didnt, either one of us, know the complete lyrics to any of the songs…lol! But, one lady was so pleased, she gave each of us a nice, shiny 50 cent piece! Thanks for the memory, focused. Happy holidays to you, and all else here! 🙂

      • Thanks Jdiggins, I’m glad I could re-spark a memory as nice as that. Sometimes memories get stored away on the back shelf of our memory wharehouse to collect dust and then soon forgotten …… Sure is nice to take some down and dust them off every now and then….. 🙂 it’s not the fifty cents that made that moment so special, it’s the simple act of kindness….. Merry Christmas to you and your family Jdiggins, until next time ……see ya…….

        • Right! Couldn’t tell ya what I did with that 50 cents. Prolly went and got 2 Hershey bars! But the lady was so pleased… 🙂 Thx focused. Happy happy holidays! 🙂

      • Merry Christmas and hugs to you Jdiggins. Your big Ole pretty heart is showing. Maybe we can all go caroling one day,,, sing all the first verses, make up the words to the rest of the verses, while sounding like Fort Worth, Texas chickens, laughing all the way!!!

        Our Bell Jingle

        Bells of silver, bells of gold,
        Bells that jingle in the cold,
        Bells ringing with such rythm,
        Singing songs with bells in them,,,

        Jingle Bells we love to sing
        Carol of the Bells, just hear them ring.
        Silver Bells decorate the city
        Just hear us sing them, what a pity,, lol

        • Yours is showing too, cindym… 🙂
          You are so sweet! Oh I would love to hear the Fenners carol….
          Oop..that’s a masterpiece waiting to be born… 🙂

          • Ha ha,,, I remember that one,,, sure is great still,. You should copy and paste it here again for the newbies.

            I felt ever blister and sore muscle in your poem 🙂

          • Has it been another year already , since that poem Jdiggins ? Time flys when we’re having fun…….I liked it then, and I like it now….. Keep up the good work….see ya

          • I hope you don’t mind JDiggins I pasted your poem from last year here so everyone can see it 🙂 It’s classic…

            In the first month of chasing
            Ole’ forrest gave to me
            A lesson in history…
            In the second month of chasing
            Ole’ forrest gave to me
            Too Far To Walk, and a lesson in history….
            In the third month of chasing
            Ole’ forrest gave to me
            Three aha moments, too far to walk, and a lesson in history…
            In the fourth month of chasing
            Ole’ forrest gave to me
            Four giant blisters, three aha moments, too far to walk, and a lesson in history…
            In the fifth month of chasing
            Ole’ forrest gave to me
            Five brand new muscles…..
            ….four giant blisters, three aha moments, too far to walk, and a lesson in history…
            In the sixth month of chasing
            Ole’ forrest gave to me
            Six scribbled journals, Five brand new muscles……
            …four giant blisters, three aha moments, too far to walk, and a lesson in history…
            In the seventh month of chasing
            Ole’ forrest gave to me
            Seven reams of notes, six scribbled journals, Five brand new muscles ..
            ….
            Four giant blisters, three aha moments, too far to walk, and a lesson in history…
            In the eighth month of chasing
            Ole’ forrest gave to me
            Eight months of memories, seven reams of notes, six scribbled journals, Five brand new muscles….
            …..
            Four giant blisters, three aha moments, too far to walk, and a lesson in history ..
            In the ninth month of chasing
            Ole’ forrest gave to me
            Nine trips behind me, eight months of memories, seven reams of notes, six scribbled journals, Five brand new muscles….
            ….
            Four giant blisters, three aha moments, too far to walk, and a lesson in history…
            In the tenth month of chasing
            Ole’ forrest gave to me
            Ten…I’ve yet to see…
            Nine trips behind me, eight months of memories, seven reams of notes, six scribbled journals, Five brand new muscles….
            …four giant blisters, three aha moments, too far to walk, AND A LESSON IN HISTORY!!!

            JDiggins

    • Thanks SL for your kind words… ” some songs just can’t be heard ” . Merry Christmas to you and your family…..with warm wishes,,,,,,,,,see ya

  96. ” Blast From The Past ”

    Sitting here reflecting back, how my childhood was back then,

    The ” land of the lost ” was on TV, and the river sucked them in.

    Let’s not forget ole “ET” , and how his finger glowed,

    Pointing at the moon above , as he spoke the words, ” phone home ”

    While playing with my “GI Joe”, and humming tunes from “Mash”

    I thought That I could save the world, before my chopper crashed.

    ” Stretch Armstrong” was also, one of my favorite toys,

    His arms would stretch forever, he was wanted by all the boys.

    “Atari” was the first game, ever played on our TV,

    ” Pong ” it was my game of choice, no one could ever beat me.

    I have to admit , that I removed, stickers from my “Rubiks Cube”,

    So I could win a friendly bet, with my good friend Luke .

    Then the music caught my ear, I listened to everything,

    My favorite song was “Moody Blues”‘ , by “Elvis” who was the king.

    Then there’s “Michael Jackson” , who invented the “Moon Walk”,

    His dancing and the moves he had, would make the whole world talk.

    I felt that in my tiny kingdom, I was the mighty ruler,

    Until I was told, to spray the pads, of our “Water Cooler”.

    We didn’t have a Cadillac , we owned a ” Station Wagon ”

    Cause All us kids could fit in there , while fussing and a naggin .

    Then came along the ” Pogo Stick”, this thing it broke my arm,

    Then the game of “Simon”, which never caused me harm.

    “Parachute Pants” and “Bell Bottoms” , were the pants of choice,

    Girls they wore the “Go-Go boots”, noticed by all us boys.

    Some things that I’ll not talk about, embarrassed still today,

    Give me another twenty years, then maybe I will say.

    I could keep on going, because my childhood was a blast,

    Thanks for taking a trip with me, while I traveled to my past……….

    By: Focused

  97. SANTA FENN

    I am Santa Fenn
    Ho ho Ho ho ho
    Flying through the snow
    Is always worth the cold
    Ho ho Ho ho ho
    Ya’ll hear me now!
    Get Off the trail, let’s go.
    Ho ho Ho ho ho
    I’m so full of cheer
    Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho!
    Only worked 9 days this year…
    Ho ho Ho ho ho
    Convincing searchers not to fear
    Was a major pain in the rear.
    Dal, please toss me a beer.
    Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho.
    Visions of treasure fill their heads
    But I fly a bullet not a sled.
    Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho
    They must think I’m a billionare..
    White hat, Denim suit, tarry boots of Black
    With a pack of gold hanging off my back
    Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho
    How much does this box of gold weigh?
    How do the reindeer pull a sleigh?
    Buttercup and lollipop need more hay.
    Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho
    Nobody sees me fly away
    As I go alone by night and day
    Not even 8 miles north of Santa Fe
    Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho
    Over the Rockies and into the wood
    I blazed them a trail,
    only I understood
    They want more clues
    but haven’t been good
    Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho
    They’ll find a paddle, not gold toys.
    The poem, Study the poem
    naughty girls and boys
    Ho ho ho ho ho
    If you leave pastrami and beer
    I’ll stop at the home
    of Brown next year
    Ho ho ho ho ho
    Here’s a secret hint
    But don’t call it a clue
    Arrow points are made of flint
    Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho
    The key to this chase
    is Santa Fenn sees
    every move you make
    Ho ho Ho Ho Ho
    So you better be good
    for goodness sake
    Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho

      • Jdiggins,
        everything you do is just right! 🙂
        Isn’t that so great to hear!

        but geez don’t ask Santa what we’ve done wrong – his list includes misusing our imaginations, ignoring a poem (of all things), putting ourselves in peril, and sitting on our “lazy ends” in the wrong state of complacency.

        It’s too bad Santa can’t really see just how hard most of us work and do our level best. I already knew my image based imaginative solutions were wrong; didn’t really need that pointed out at Christmas while I take care of my family. Sorry Santa, now I’m really on the naughty list.

    • Thanks for that one lia….seems like I’m always on the naughty list…lol. Merry Christmas to you and your family…..until next time …see ya

  98. In the tradition of Advent to honor Christ’s birth:

    Once I heard a song of sweetness,
    As it cleft the morning air,
    Sounding in its blest completeness,
    Like a tender, pleading prayer;
    And I sought to find the singer,
    Whence the wondrous song was borne;
    And I found a bird sore wounded,
    Pinioned by a painful thorn.

    I have seen a soul in sadness,
    While its wings with pain were furl’d,
    Giving hope, and cheer and gladness
    That should bless a weepinig world;
    And I knew that life of sweetness,
    Was of pain and sorrow borne,
    And a stricken soul was singing,
    With its heart against a thorn.

    Ye are told of One who loved you,
    Of a Savior crucified,
    Ye are told of nails that pinioned,
    And a spear that pierced His side;
    Ye are told of cruel scourging,
    Of a Savior bearing scorn,
    And He died for your eternal soul
    With His brow against a thorn.

    Will you breathe a sweet refrain?
    Allow His grace to be sufficient,
    When your heart is pierced with pain.
    Will you live to bless your loved ones,
    Tho’ your life be bruised and torn,
    Like the bird that sang so sweetly,
    With its heart against a thorn.

    – Author unknown

      • Jdiggins & Spallies…

        May your Christmas
        be Merry & Bright,
        Your homes filled with love,
        and your hearts be light.

        Blessings to you and yours in 2016

        Anna

    • Wow Anna , I really liked that one….just because we may be wounded, we can all still sing a beautiful song…….sing for others, and let our hearts shine….loved it..thanks Anna …… Merry Christmas to you and your family…….keep singing…see ya

      • Merry Christmas Focussed. Joy to the world, but especially to you and yours this evening.

        Apparently, I needed to remind myself to keep singing for the joy of others today. im not certain who wrote the poem, but l loved it’s sentiment. As a Christian, the incarnation or miracle of Christ Jesus {God with us} wrapped in human flesh for 33 years is beyond amazing. He withheld the same power that created the universe to live fully human in order to understand our weaknesses, our humanity…and blaze our trail to heaven. I’m truly humbled that anyone would choose to take my place in death, much more so that the One who breathed life into me loves each human being so completely.

          • Thanks chase fan, it seemed appropriate at Christmas; although I concur with Dal that the purpose of this blog is ttotc related.

  99. ” Halt And Listen ”

    In season chilled, rich snowflakes glisten,

    Search thee soul, through moon lit night.

    Tune ye ears , just halt and listen,

    Hear the North Star, shining bright.

    Though turned away, from warmth of inn,

    Straw and hay, a baby’s manger,

    Crisp cold of night, one life begins,

    Three traveled far, in midst of danger.

    Followed bright , a northern star,

    Gifts for a newborn, mighty King.

    Tired of travel, they came afar,

    Knelt in his stable, the angels sing.

    Life of a King , moved quickly by,

    Spreading good, across the lands.

    Sentenced while, the faithful cry,

    Rusty nails, through savior’s hands.

    Thorns that pierce, his mighty head,

    Blood that fell, upon the ground.

    Silence covers, his face of red,

    Upon a hill, of a nearby town.

    To rise again, with heavens power,

    Open door, for you and I.

    If in our hearts, our finest hour,

    With him we’ll, forever fly.

    In season chilled, rich snowflakes glisten,

    Search thee soul, just halt and listen………..

    By: Focused

    Just wanted to remind everyone to remember the true meaning of Christmas….
    I would like to wish everyone a Merry Christmas with their families…..
    Warm wishes from my family to yours…..

      • Thanks uken2it, so many nowdays forget the true meaning of Christmas, their thoughts are on material things………..glad you liked it…good luck to you in the chase….and merry Christmas to ya……see ya

    • Focused-
      If you aren’t cautious you’re going to get some kind of reputation around here for being a distinguished and highly appreciated poet. 🙂

      • Wow , thanks Dal for the great compliment . Hey I’m just enjoying the ” Chase ” . A journey inspired by Forrest……. Like I’ve said before, I’ve never written a poem before I got involved in the “chase” ….. But as long as others appreciate my words, I’ll continue……
        Thank you Dal for everything you do for us searchers…….. Merry Christmas to you and your family Dal. Warm wishes from my family to yours…

        – Focused –

    • Focused, dal is correct, however, I think it’s too late, the reputation is stuck. 🙂
      Merry Christmas to you too, focused. And, may you be blessed with a prosperous and FUN New Year!

      I wish the same for all of you here, my friends in the thrill…

      Dal, for your hospitality…and goofy..lol!
      ;-)Much love to you all…
      spallies, cindym, lia, anna, into, pl289, raven, seeker, spoon, wiseone, cynthia, tom, amy and amy 🙂 , doug, bill, katya, and so many more of you I did not list.

      Most of all, Merry Christmas to you, forrest!

      And Peggy, and kelly, shiloh, lucca.. and the rest!….:-)

      • I don’t know about the reputation thing, but thanks anyways Jdiggins …..merry Christmas and good luck to ya in the chase… Until next time….see ya………

    • Focussed, thank you!
      Such eloquent words befitting the King of Kings and Lord of all creation, who walked so humbly while on earth as a servant king to humanity. Loved your poem.

      • Your welcome anna, and thank you for such a nice comment. I just wanted to remind everyone to remember the true meaning of Christmas.
        I’m glad you liked my words anna…… Merry Christmas to you and your family….. warm wishes from my family to yours…. good luck in the chase ..and until next time … see ya anna 🙂

  100. When ever I read the poem I try to read it with a Texas accent or southwestern drawl. I am hoping to find a pronounciation that would clarify a word or phrase. To be helpful with this I wrote out the poem with appropriate accents and spelling.

    As ah hab gone alone in thar
    An’ wif mah trehshurs bold,
    ah can keep mah secret war,
    An’ int of riches noo an’ old.

    Begin it whar warm wateh salt
    An’ take it in d’ cennyon down,
    Not far, but two fer 2 walk.
    Put in below d’ ome of Brown,

    Fum dar it’s no place fo’ d’ meek,
    D’ end is effah drorin’ nye;
    Daryll be no pabble up yeh creek,
    Jess heaby lodes an’ wateh high.

    Eff’n yo’’be been wise an’ foun’ d’ blaze,
    Look kicklee down, yeh kwess t’ cease,
    But tarry scant wif marbel gaze,
    Jess take d’ chess an’ git in peace.

    So whuffo’ is it det ah muss go
    An’ lee mah trobe fo’ all t’seek?
    D’ ansehrs ah a ready know,
    I’be done it tard, an’ now I’m weak.

    So hear me all an’ lissen gud,
    Yeh effo’t will be wo’d d’ cold,
    Eff’n yeh brabe an’ in d’ wood
    ah gib yo’ title t’d’ gold.

    Read this out loud with your friends, loved ones, and strangers in a bar. I know that you will find somthin’ to take an’ ponder.

    • Funny Michael Hendrickson , I’m pretty sure that would be considered as ” messing with the poem “… 🙂 .lol but hey , whatever it takes to jog a thought….right ? Thanks for the laugh……good luck to ya and merry Christmas ……see ya

      • LoL. Reminds me of The Gold Bug dialogue by E.A. Poe. Thanks for that interpretation, it’s one of the best fenn poem reads I’ve seen anywhar’ in a long time. Does this qualify as “messing with the poem”? What say you Dal, you’re the resident expert.

    • Michael H. yer dern right hesterakle!
      I’ve wondered what the poem looks like in Forrest’s southern drawl. Very good. Although Forrest has one of the most extensive and articulate vocabularies I’ve seen in his books on Sharpe, Sloane, etc.

    • Now that we know you possess poetic talent Michael H, we’ll expect that Christmas carol about yoga pants to make its debut here.

  101. ” Little Old Lady ”

    Christmas season upon me , I went out for a stroll,

    To admire all the lights , while they glistened and glowed.

    The evening was cold, with light snow in the air,

    Each house I would stop, on the curb and just stare.

    Ahead on the corner, a cafe’s in sight,

    Hot chocolate sounds good, to top off this night.

    The door was lit up , and so was the steps,

    But sitting there on them, a lady just wept.

    I knelt down beside her, and asked , if she was alright,

    Then Removing her hood, oh what a sight.

    A little old lady, tears rolled down her face,

    Standing there staring, I just froze in my space.

    I ask her to join me , and welcomed her in,

    I could tell she needed, some words of a friend.

    I ordered us chocolate, she was wiping her eyes,

    The words that she spoke, caught me by surprise.

    ” my husband is gone now , I lost him last week,”

    ” For 55 years , we strolled down this street.”

    ” Admiring the lights, stopping here for some tea.”

    ” No family at all ” , ” none ” , ” now it’s just me.”

    Speechless I stare, my heartstrings were tugged,

    That’s when I rose , and I gave her a hug.

    While hugging I told her, there’s no need to cry,

    Cause now I’m her family, till the day that I die.

    We left the warm cafe, and continued to walk,

    With a Smile on her face, she steadily talked.

    I could definitely tell ,she was in need of a friend,

    I opened my heart, and let this old lady in.

    When our walk in the night, came to an end,

    She gave me a hug, said ” thank you my friend”.

    I looked at her, and her eyes were still red,

    With a Hand on each shoulder, the that’s when I said.

    ” we’re now more than friends, we’re family for life”,

    ” Till the day that I die, I’ll be by your side. ”

    The smile on her face, said all it could say,

    One final hug, and we parted our ways.

    From that day on, each year as they pass,

    We’d stroll down that street, and stop for a glass.

    The family I gained, while I went for a stroll,

    Will never again , sit and weep in the cold.

    If your ever out walking, just taking it in,

    And you see somebody, just needing a friend.

    Please take the time, to tell them you care,

    And show them how family will always be there………..

    By : Focused

    Take the time this holiday season to think of others, because sometimes
    Things are not always what they seem…. Merry Christmas everyone……

    • God work Focused, life is about so much more than our own selfish ambitions. Eternity awaits! Merry Christmas!

    • Focussed, thank you for reminding us through your poetry…how much kindness and friendship mean to others, especially to those without family.

      I rarely speak to homeless people but needed a cup of coffee to stay alert while driving from Austin to Dallas last night. I stopped at a roadside MacDonald’s in Temple, Texas and bought a homeless man dinner. It only took a moment to let him know he matters.

      • Your welcome Anna, if everyone would show a simple act of kindness, it could change the world……thank you and merry Christmas to you and your family……

    • Focused, you’re such a wonderful storyteller-poet!

      Merry Christmas to all here on the blog,,, and thanks to DaL, Goofy, and Forrest. I love all y’all 🙂

    • Focused,
      I’ve been admiring your poetry for awhile, but this one is extra-special. Brought a tear! I think everyone here is talented…JDiggins, CindyM, Spallies, Anna, Goofy & many others. Makes me very happy to be part of this adventure with you all!

  102. Merry Christmas Focussed. Enjoy recounting favorite memories with your loved ones tomorrow.

    We’re celebrating Christ’s birth with our adult kids tonight. I love when our home is again filled with their laughter. My son Dan arrived at our doorstep dressed as ‘cousin Eddie’ from Christmas vacation – wearing a bathrobe with brown dress socks, a fur ear-flap hat and a stupid grin. One of the best laughs I can remember!!!

  104. Beautiful Focused! The true meaning of the Christmas season! Merry Christmas Dal, Goofy and to all you searchers and lurkers! Merry Christmas Forrest and family!

  106. ‘Time 4 a Change’

    Bland Oh Bland,
    Oh my Uncle Sam.

    When a Dream becomes,
    A life of scum.

    Yearning of the West,
    to show my best.

    Family of lies,
    Time to see the big blue skies,

    To explore my country,
    or to be a junkie.

    Times running out,
    gotta pout.

    Bland Oh Bland,
    Oh my Uncle Same.

  107. ” Spiritual Gifts ”

    Deep within , a forest boundary ,

    Stands a rock cliff, straight and tall.

    Steaming as if , poured in a foundry,

    From top of it , warm water falls.

    Kneeling upon , its steaming banks,

    An Indian brave, with knees in sand.

    While in his silence, he gives his thanks,

    Into warm water, released from his hands.

    Upon a hand carved ,boat made of bark,

    Two willow leafs, of a lone nearby tree.

    Three feathers of grey , from a meadowlark,

    One bloody arrowhead, that was pulled from he.

    The brave he gently , takes in a deep breath,

    Sending his boat , down that river of heat.

    He remembers the face , of the angel of death,

    While Chanting aloud , he then rose to his feet.

    Looks at the heavens, then softly he said,

    “Two willow leafs, are the lives that you give. ”

    “Three feathers for angels, that circled my head,”

    ” one bloody arrowhead , removed so I live.”

    “Thank you great spirit, up there in the sky,”

    ” For giving me life , so proudly I’ll stay.”

    “Great heavens above” , “accept all my pride,”

    Then slowly he turns , and just walks away.

    Upon the warm River , his boat drifts away,

    Quickly it floated, though haven’t a sail.

    The heavens then answered, heard by the brave,

    The silence was broken, by a loud eagles wail…………

    By: Focused

  108. Focused I want to be you when I grow up!!!

    I still can’t seem to write poetry like Y’all amazing folks but here is a riddle I came up with 🙂

    Four hands begin to the bitter end
    And two times more as many locks
    When lightness and darkness blend
    The scales of time are ruled by the clock

    🙂

    • Spallies, I think this is me clapping for you…
      \””/ ?
      I dunno if it is, but I am!
      🙂

    • Spallies, When you grow up , you need to set your sights higher than me..lol

      As far as your riddle, you done great on it.. and you got me on that one… I guess my brain is tired from the chase…lol . good luck to ya spallies, until next time, see ya…

    • Nice riddle spallies, I’m stumped too but don’t tell,,, I may be close.

      I think I’ve said those words before,,, 🙂

  109. ” The Hunt ”

    A hundred buffalo grazing, midst of an open plain,

    Dark cloud in the distant , drops it’s precious rain.

    Crawling in the grasses, while moving very slow,

    A hunter for the “Crow” tribe, and in his hand his bow.

    The wind is in his favor, the sun is at his back,

    As he tops a gentle rise, all he could see was black.

    He looks up to the heavens, but only with his eyes,

    Prays his mighty arrow , would pierce a big bulls side.

    So he could feed his family, for weeks that lay ahead.

    And fur to cover his children, while laying in their bed.

    He signals to another hunter, but never says a word,

    One large bull , has strayed away, from the moving herd.

    He slowly takes an arrow, and places on his string,

    Gently raises to his knees, and let’s his arrow fling.

    The arrow it flew straight, and on a deadly path,

    The bull had seen it coming, and dodged it’s bloody wrath.

    The herd it took off running, they shook the hollow ground,

    The hunter hung his painted face, he let his family down.

    But he will keep on hunting, the sun is still up high,

    Maybe in a distant valley , he’ll get another try.

    He must continue hunting, his family depends on him,

    So they can eat and stay warm, during the winter winds.

    Maybe you should listen , to the hunters of the past,

    Just because you fail sometimes, don’t give up to fast.

    For if you keep on trying, and continue to believe,

    Someday you will gladly say, ” my goal has been achieved.”

    There is hundred buffalo running, across the open plain,

    A rainbow in the distant, created by the rain…………………

    By: Focused

    • Amazing poem, Focused. I felt like I was there…crawling on my belly in the sweet grass. The enjoyment of life very often comes down to perspective…and attitude. In a life of relative ease, “eating crow” on occasion is more welcome than being a starving Crow.

    • That was really great focused! Thoroughly enjoyed it.
      “Painted pictures in my mind”…

      • Thank you wise one…I’m glad you enjoyed my poem…enjoy the painting.. until next time…..see ya

    • Focused, it’s an honor we get to share this exciting time in our lives with creative people such as yourself. Beautiful. 🙂

      • Focussed, I’d like to pay you a complement on your poetic story telling, but will leave that to others so I’m not known as a brown nose if you should find the treasure. 😉
        Just kidding! Although I am in a silent period. Well done as always.
        I can hear Cher singing your poem to the tune of ‘Cherokee People.’ Isn’t she a friend of Forrests?

        • Thanks Anna , hey , if I found the treasure I would be the one with the brown nose……because I would be face down in the dirt…lol. as far as cher, I don’t know if forrest knows her, but that would be cool huh….take care anna…..and good luck to ya….

      • Thank you my friend for your creative words here also…….I really enjoy them…take care jdiggins and good luck to ya in the chase…see ya

        • Focussed, I hope you are organizing your poetry for a published work. You are gifted unusually to weave beautiful imagery within your poetry. I would purchase for certs!!

          • Thanks Anna , I have saved all my poems on my iPad , all or most of them need to be revised a little , I have a problem with writing them then posting before proofreading for errors, I get caught up in the moment…lol. Right now I have between 60 or 70 poems total…..geez I didn’t know I wrote that many….lol I figured if I added a sketch for each poem that I wrote , then that may be enough for a book…..I don’t know….thinking out loud…sorry…. It just makes me feel good that you guys like my words…..good luck to everyone while you chase your dreams…. Until next time…..see ya Anna ……..

      • Your welcome specialklr , as far as a book goes , I’m flattered but you may be the only buyer…lol thank you for your kind comment…good luck to you in the chase and I’m glad you like my words..see ya

        • If I were the only one nudging you, perhaps I would be the only buyer.
          No matter, I would buy several copies, for friends that I care about.

  110. ” My Mental Chase ”

    While sitting on an airplane, reading a provided book,

    A poem written by Forrest Fenn, I had to take a look.

    It talked about a treasure, hidden for us all to search,

    I was hooked, from then on , it got me off my perch.

    Since then I’ve had many dreams, lying there in bed,

    Many trips into the mountains, scratching at my head.

    Now I see the words he wrote, they twist within my mind,

    Trying to decode a poem , that’s taking all my time.

    Now I look at numbers , on signs along the road,

    Could it be a hint to me , of Forrest’s heavy loads ?

    This happens all the time, no matter where I go,

    Other times I walk in circles, knee deep in the snow.

    Some say I’m going crazy, in this golden chase I’m N,

    Floating like leaves of autumn, upon a chilly wind.

    Eye see where they are coming from, and wear I’m going two,

    Butt most of all eye have made, friends as nice as ewe.

    Eye will C ewe in the mountains, that’s wear Eye will B,

    Looking four a treasure, left their 4 ewe and me.

    Win I’m finished looking, and I’m old and grey,

    Then put me N a mental home until my final day…………………

    By: Focused

    • That would be so awesome, Focused. Another great poem, btw. If I’m going to be in a straightjacket…then I might as well be rich in a straightjacket! Here’s a picture of me ordering pizza…I imagine…at some time in the future. 🙂

      http://sj.blacksteel.com/media/images/gb01.jpg

      Then I can just pay somebody to feed me the pizza…or they can just throw it on the floor…you know…still in the pizza box, of course. Sheesh! Like I haven’t eaten pizza like that before.

      • Lol another great tome focused! (Is that the write word?)

        JC is that “they” telling you it’s not “real” 🙂

        Maybe we will all end up at the “Stille Trails” retirement home for searchers 🙂

        • Thanks spallies……hey if we all end up at the retirement home for searchers, then I call the chair by the window………..see ya

      • That’s funny JC1117……I know we all feel this way sometimes….lol….enjoy your pizza……. 🙂 good luck to ya in your chase….. See ya

      • CindyM , I think we have all been there…lol I love your poetry too……thanks my friend……good luck yo ya….until next time….see ya 🙂

        • Focused, glad to know I’m in good company in the ‘mental chase’…find myself looking for hints in every corner of a round room Love your poetry!

          • Chase Fan , sorry about my slow response, somehow I missed your comment….I am right there with ya in the ” mental Chase “..lol. I’m glad you like my words….until next time…..see ya Chase Fan

  111. ” Homely Dreams ”

    Im Standing in a special canyon , with cliffs on either side,

    The sky has narrowed high above, White clouds are drifting by.

    They’re Shining in the canyon , beyond them cobalt blue,

    As I rest upon this rock , my thoughts are tuned on you.

    Even though we’ve never met , I’ve known you for a while,

    Just Thinking of your beauty , it always makes me smile.

    That’s what keeps me going , when my trails are very long,

    While Hiking in the canyons, I listen to natures songs.

    On Farther down the canyon , the cliffs are closing in,

    The stream in which I follow, disappears around the bend.

    A chipmunk stops and stares at me , upon a rock ahead,

    His mouth is full of pine needles, I’m sure they’re for his bed.

    I finally reached the special spot, the stream just falls away,

    I’m Standing atop a waterfall , below me water sprays.

    My trail has end , I look around, this place of serenity,

    I feel that she is here somewhere, just staring right at me.

    I know that in her beauty, I’ll have a steady gaze,

    While thoughts of her abound me , I know I’ll be amazed.

    Then suddenly, a bush just moved, shaken by a squirrel,

    Under it, Alas we meet, I smiled at a ” Homely Girl “…………..

    By: Focused

    • Focused-
      You certainly are a wonderful asset around here. Your poetry is like the soft blue whisper of a green bordered river as it gently slides downhill, past my silent camp, in a relentless desire to get somewhere I have not yet discovered.

      • Dal , very well worded , and thank you for your kind comment…..keep discovering and good luck to ya in your chase..until next time…see ya

    • So nice to hear you chime in. It’s amazing how many notes you can touch with just a few swipes of your talented tongue. Some lucky homely girl just blushed with the thought of being discovered.
      You have a special way of communicating your toughts into words that all of us intensely appreciate.
      Thanks for sharing

      • Thanks strawshadow….I’m glad you like my words when I chime in…good luck to ya….see ya

      • Thanks CindyM…… I LOVE knowing that they are appreciated by others…..may the warm thoughts of spring keep you warm until your chase resumes….take care my friend and thank you again…… 🙂

  112. Focused…did you write that for Mindy? It reminds me of her own dream poem a little bit ago and recent post about “dangers of
    squirrels”…how cute of you to do
    It “Facebook official’ style on the blog too!! Did you send that necklace too??!? The world needs more like you 🙂 …unless you’re literally hiding in the bushes of course….lol. Just kidding, I think.

      • Thanks mindy…I really enjoy your poems too…thank you for your words here…honestly I don’t know what jamie is talking about….but hey, as long as everyone enjoys my poems…right. good luck to ya mindy while you chase your dreams…..enjoy your trails that lay ahead…see ya mindy

    • Jamie, no I did not write that for Mindy alone, nor do I know anything about a necklace… I wrote my poem from scratch while letting my mind roam….it was not directed to anyone, except everyone who is enjoying their chase….thank you jamie for your kind coment…..see ya….and good luck to ya

  113. Un lugar en el que he estado
    Sin embargo, no pueden regresar
    Una vez que estaba aprendiendo
    Lo que hoy añoro
    Un momento de silencio
    En una habitación polvorienta caliente
    Un libro en mis manos
    Muchos otros me sostengo en breve
    La risita de lluvia
    El T.V. fondo
    La música que tenía
    me Sostener
    Un millón de vidas
    Un millón de i
    Momentos que recuerdo
    Holas y adioses
    Pasos ive tomadas
    Nombres que he conocido
    La gente que he visto
    Las semillas que he sembrado
    Así que muchos pasados
    Presenta para mí
    Guarniciones de plata Priceless
    hilos y llaves maestras
    Mi mente es una selva
    Qué puedo decir
    Dejo que la nostalgia
    Colarse en la actualidad

    • Good job Lilhunter….I think we all have our silver linings…..ps I had to use a translator..my Spanish on a scale of 1 to 100 is a 1…… 🙂 good to hear from ya…take care my friend and good luck to ya while you chase your dreams……see ya

      • Thanks Focused, mine isnt top notch either half of that was translated from the original. And Good luck to you too! =D

  114. Like Rocky and Bullwinkle’s
    Fairy Tales that were fractured
    Looking down to my poem
    Hope…it’s essence is captured

    Once…There was an old lady
    Who lived near the shore
    She had dreams of a treasure
    Oh…So far from her door

    So, like the night before Christmas
    When “There arose such a clatter”
    She woke from her dream, thinking
    Oh “Where Oh Where” is my ladder?

    Then, out of the “blue” she sees “cinder” Ella
    Up so high…with her long woven hair
    And there, of course…Rapunzel’s glass slipper
    Left hurriedly…and down, near the base of the stair

    Is her “prince” in the forest…she wanders, so deep
    Mirror, Mirror…she stares…but what does she see?
    Dopey, Grumpy, Happy…then Doc?…NOT
    Silly goose…but, what should appear…just eight noisy deer

    Awake, Awake…The old lady now sees
    Not Boris, Natasha, Not Aesop, Not Grimm
    No selling of “C” shells…the moral now shouts
    To get to the end…Get yourself to the gym

    Whether your dreams bring you Near or ever so FAR
    Now Dasher! now, Vixen! now, Forrest and Dancer!
    Clap your hands and BELIEVE…where “there’s a will…
    There can be a way…AND…You’ll know the answer

    • Great job Ellen ! I really enjoyed that one…keep up the good work and good luck to ya while you chase your dreams……… 🙂

  115. Thank you Focused and CindyM for your kind comments. I’ve probably only written a handful of poems in my life….but, sometimes like “tears”, words just flow.

    As an aside…I learned that there are a number of thoughts on how Cinderella got her name. I like the one that her name was Ella and she was covered with ashes from the fireplace…thus “cinder” Ella.

    Another…her original name was “Asschunputtle”, which means “Little Cinder Girl in German…but when translated to other languages…it became Cinderella. Another spelling shows “Aschenputtel”.

    Anyway…wonder how I could incorporate that name in my poem instead (smile)?

  116. AWAY OUT WEST
    Sharlot M. Hall

    Away, away from city and street
    Away from the tread of thronging feet
    That hurry and crowd, but never know
    The trails where man may joy to go.
    Away where the pines are green and tall,
    And skies are blue, and high hills call.
    Away from the things that cry and clamor,
    And beat on the heart like an iron hammer—
    The needless needs that chain the soul
    In a ceaseless round to a useless goal.
    Away where the stars are big and bright
    As lamps of God in the desert night;
    When silence lies like a waveless sea
    That reaches from now to eternity—
    Till dawn comes up on the peaks above
    Like the light of joy in the eyes you love.
    Away where the earth is strong and free,
    With room for the men who are yet to be;
    Where hope is the truest and life is best—
    Away out West.

    Out from the things that cramp and hold,
    And shape man’s life in an iron mold.
    Out from walls on every side;
    Out to spaces clean and wide;
    Sky for roof and earth for floors;
    Home as big as all outdoors;
    Wind in the Pines for a singing harp,
    Camp-fire high on a granite scarp;
    Rustilings soft in the leaves and grass,
    Shy and quick where the wild things pass;
    Life of the wilderness, better to meet
    Than the things of night on a city street.
    Out where we turn from yesterday
    And wash our hearts in the clean today.
    Out where a man is free to make
    New Roads of life for new hope’s sake—
    Free to dream of the greater man
    He meant to be when life began;
    Where the soul has room for its highest quest
    Away out West.

    West of Lands where life is old,
    Choked by the past till its blood is cold;
    Dumb and dull with toil and fret;
    Numb with the pain of old regret;
    Dead men’s hopes and memories
    That whisper and call in every breeze;
    Dead men’s work and dead men’s bones
    That clog the earth and crowd the stones;
    Till the heart is hushed and the pulse goes still
    Lest it wake the dead and cross their will.
    West, O West where the sun each day
    Bids the feet to be up and away;
    Where new trails run and new lands wait,
    And a man and God are his only fate.
    Where the far blue peaks and valleys wide
    Cleanse the heart of its hasty pride,
    And the open sky and boundless space
    Carve something great on the poorest face;
    Where a man’s on honor to be his best—-
    Away out West.

    A really great poem, Doncha think!

    • Thank you
      Charlotte Hall
      for opening
      the windows
      to my soul
      ever so tall.

      @endofthechase, as I do endless housework in a city without a view, it’s that type of poem which helps me refocus on the fragrance of a flower filled meadow in the Rockies…where I was meant to be. Thank you.

  117. ” Cowboys Home ”

    Been riding on a dusty trail, my horse and me alone,

    Looking for a special town , that I can call my home.

    Many years I’ve traveled, I’ve entered many towns,

    Just to ride on through them, always feeling down.

    The sun is hot, my hat is wet , my saddle dry and squeaks,

    Up Ahead I see a town, first one I’ve seen in weeks.

    Maybe I can get a bath, and start my life anew,

    My horse could use a blacksmith, he’s missing one back shoe.

    The town is getting closer, with every step We take,

    There’s something written up ahead, upon a wooden stake.

    I sit up in the saddle, to read what it might say,

    Upon the stake is written, the town name “Santa Fe”.

    As I ride into this town , the folks just stare at me,

    With my pistol on my side , I was dusty as can be.

    I rode up to a hitching post, then swung down off my horse,

    Suddenly a stranger spoke, his voice was rough and coarse.

    “Welcome stranger to our town”, “we call this Santa Fe.”

    ” Are you just passing through”, “or do you plan to stay?”

    Then he offered me a drink, on him , in their saloon,

    And told me where to grab a bite, over at the greasy spoon.

    The people there were very nice , everywhere I stopped,

    The hotel where I stayed the night and even the blacksmith shop.

    My dusty trail has ended, I think I’ve found my home,

    I think I’ll stay in Santa Fe ,and rest my aching bones.

    A week has passed ,since I arrived, at this special place,

    But I have yet to feel a smile, upon my wrinkled face.

    I dream of all the sunsets, That I’ve seen along the trail,

    Just My horse and me alone, no words can even tell.

    I’m packing up my saddlebags , I’m leaving at first light,

    This cowboys gotta leave this town, to me it don’t feel right.

    I’ve gotta have my open space, no walls to close me in,

    With Santa Fe behind me, my trail to home begins.

    My saddle it’s still squeaking, the sun is getting hot,

    This cowboy sure is thankful, for everything I’ve got.

    While riding along the Rio Grande, I look up to the sky,

    Thank you God , this trails my home, I’ll ride it till I die……………

    By : Focused

      • Thanks pdenver I’m glad you enjoy my words….. Enjoy your ” wide open spaces ” along your journey….. Good luck to ya… Until our trails cross again…..see ya

    • Great “theatre of the mind”, focused. Thanks! I also loved Homely Dreams, and Mental Chase, too, I’ve just been super busy. I’ve missed you and writing too!

      • Thanks jdiggins, glad you liked them….yeah I wondered where ya been……have fun chasing your dreams….see ya

  118. I’d like to post this poem I’ve written to my sisters this past fall. My sisters and I moved from our childhood state in 1977. I haven’t returned, yet. May you hold near and dear, your sweet memories.

    Sweet Memories

    Scented leaf piles,
    raked up high,
    three sisters leap,
    run, jump and dive.

    Haystacks in fields,
    pumpkins galore,
    orchards nearby,
    which we adore.

    Remember thoughts,
    which use to be,
    not forgotten,
    sweet memories.

    Bring on the smiles,
    wipe away the tear,
    I do love you,
    sisters most dear.

    • Wow pdenver loved it…….nothing like childhood memories with siblings….I hope you can return and see the sights and feel the memories in person again…..good job….. I enjoyed that one……. See ya

      • Thank you, Focused. I appreciate the complement. I hope to visit back home, too. My father and siblings live here; my mother passed in 2012…I miss her dearly. Mr. Fenn’s chase reminds us to cherish our memories and continue to make them.

        • Pdenver, I know your mother is looking down from heaven very very proud of you…….some of the best poems are words from the heart that never spoken……
          Just listen and you can hear them….. See ya….take care

  119. I’d like to share one other poem I wrote this past fall to my family. You and one other person inspired me to start writing poetry once more. Thank you for the inspiration to continue.

    Welcome To Fall

    Season begins,
    breezes are crisp,
    dew on the blades,
    sun in the mist.

    Bounty of trees,
    colors so bold,
    scattering leaves,
    red, green and gold.

    Field of flowers,
    chipmunks scamper,
    gathering seeds,
    cheeks well pamper.

    Geese overhead,
    blue is the sky,
    honks in the air,
    southward they fly.

    Fuzzy sweaters,
    apple cider,
    bubbling stew,
    crackling fire.

    Days grow shorter,
    the night will call,
    stars will twinkle,
    Welcome to fall.

  120. ” Forrest’s Family ”

    We came into this “chase”, each and every one,

    Ready for adventure, chasing dreams and fun.

    Even though we’re strangers, we’re closer than you think,

    When your help is needed, no one even blinks.

    This family we are part of, grows stronger every day,

    I listen to the blogs, and what the searchers say.

    I hear it in their fingers, while typing here for all,

    When danger really draws nigh, your at the beacon call.

    While Randy chased his dreams, adventure filled his eyes,

    When he came up missing, the choppers hit the skies.

    Others hit the Mesa tops, with boots upon the ground,

    Vowing not to give up, until our brothers found.

    As I watch this all unfold, from many miles away,

    Wishing I could help you all, each and every day.

    But distance is a factor, for many more like me,

    But prayers will cross the distance, upon a bended knee.

    When Randy came up missing, we all were crashing thoughts,

    Chasing gold and fortune, sharing ideas we’ve got.

    But I have noticed lately, that no one speaks of gold,

    Everyone is trying, to find Randy the cold.

    As I type these words, my chest swells from within,

    Proud of all the searchers, and the family that I’m in.

    Forrest take a look around, this family you have built,

    Because of you, we chase our dreams, you should feel no guilt.

    As I finish up my words, I’ll say it once again,

    This sure is an amazing family, thank God you are my friends……………

    By: Focused

    ” hats off to everyone who has helped to find Randy, boots on the ground and
    Online…….” Thank you………

  122. Focused, you have such a way with words! You speak of what we are all feeling and say it so beautifully.
    God has certainly blessed you with a wonderful talent.

    • Feels good huh Belle, I’m glad you liked my words….good luck to you while you chase your dreams……see ya

  124. I bought this book(poem) when I was 23 years old and carried it everywhere with me.

    The Invitation by Oriah

    It doesn’t interest me
    what you do for a living.
    I want to know
    what you ache for
    and if you dare to dream
    of meeting your heart’s longing.

    It doesn’t interest me
    how old you are.
    I want to know
    if you will risk
    looking like a fool
    for love
    for your dream
    for the adventure of being alive.

    It doesn’t interest me
    what planets are
    squaring your moon…
    I want to know
    if you have touched
    the centre of your own sorrow
    if you have been opened
    by life’s betrayals
    or have become shrivelled and closed
    from fear of further pain.

    I want to know
    if you can sit with pain
    mine or your own
    without moving to hide it
    or fade it
    or fix it.

    I want to know
    if you can be with joy
    mine or your own
    if you can dance with wildness
    and let the ecstasy fill you
    to the tips of your fingers and toes
    without cautioning us
    to be careful
    to be realistic
    to remember the limitations
    of being human.

    It doesn’t interest me
    if the story you are telling me
    is true.
    I want to know if you can
    disappoint another
    to be true to yourself.
    If you can bear
    the accusation of betrayal
    and not betray your own soul.
    If you can be faithless
    and therefore trustworthy.

    I want to know if you can see Beauty
    even when it is not pretty
    every day.
    And if you can source your own life
    from its presence.

    I want to know
    if you can live with failure
    yours and mine
    and still stand at the edge of the lake
    and shout to the silver of the full moon,
    “Yes.”

    It doesn’t interest me
    to know where you live
    or how much money you have.
    I want to know if you can get up
    after the night of grief and despair
    weary and bruised to the bone
    and do what needs to be done
    to feed the children.

    It doesn’t interest me
    who you know
    or how you came to be here.
    I want to know if you will stand
    in the centre of the fire
    with me
    and not shrink back.

    It doesn’t interest me
    where or what or with whom
    you have studied.
    I want to know
    what sustains you
    from the inside
    when all else falls away.

    I want to know
    if you can be alone
    with yourself
    and if you truly like
    the company you keep
    in the empty moments.

  125. That’s a beautiful way of putting things. Thank you for passing the wisdom along, 23 Kachinas.

  126. ODE TO RANDY

    As we venture into the unknown, seeking answers to quench our thirst for truth,
    We find the knowledge peeking
    From every turn in our path as proof.
    What we find at the trails ending,
    However we traveled to arrive there,
    Makes up for the time we’re all spending
    Looking for who, when, why and where.
    If we find the end while we’re searching,
    We face our truth with eyes open wide.
    We can say we never stopped learning,
    And our loved ones hearts will be filled with pride.

  127. A Prayer for Randy
    Today Lord, we cry out to you on behalf of our loved one, Randy, who is missing. We anxiously and patiently await his safe return or just to hear news of his whereabouts.
    Even though you said be anxious for nothing but everything by prayer and supplication, with Thanksgiving, let our request be known, it’s heart-wrenching not knowing where he is.
    We feel so overwhelmed and helpless.
    Lord, you said you would never leave us or forsake us, so we continue to trust and hope in the mighty working power of the Holy Spirit that Randy will be found.
    Amen

    • Good prayer eaglesabound. We don’t always get the answers we seek, but if we trust God we can draw strength and hope. It is so nice to see that the call to “love one another” is more alive than it seems in our world today. Thank you to all on this blog that proves it. We understand cold and snow in Iowa so God bless you all.

    • Eagles, Focussed, MichaelD, 23k

      Your prayers and heartfelt thoughts are appreciated here.

      Randy’s disappearance is a somber, sobering reality. It breaks our hearts we cannot fill the gaping loss for his family. Yet, I’m convinced by Randys own actions he was living his dream. His passion for ttotc and exploring the Rio Grande ran deep. If given a choice on how to exit earth’ stage I would choose a gorgeous day on the river over malignant disease every time.

  128. As I have not read all three pages of poems, someone may have already posted this from The Hobbit, where Bilbo says this aloud as he re-enters the Shire:

    Roads go ever ever on,
    Over rock and under tree,
    By caves where never sun has shone,
    By streams that never find the sea;
    Over snow by winter sown,
    And through the merry flowers of June,
    Over grass and over stone,
    And under mountains of the moon.

    Roads go ever ever on
    Under cloud and under star,
    Yet feet that wandering have gone
    Turn at last to home afar.
    Eyes that fire and sword have seen
    And horror in the halls of stone
    Look at last on meadows green
    And trees and hills they long have known – J.R.R Tolkien

    As we wander through life, and come to our journey’s end, may our eyes “look at last on meadows green and trees and hills they long have known.”

    Be at peace, Randy.

  129. Swwot and Focused…I enjoyed your poems. Sometimes, words are all we can offer. Thank you.

    A SONG, QUOTES, and A POEM…
    For All

    My Mind Searches…With a Heavy Heart
    A Soul is Lost…Somewhere…Far and Away
    A Place Unknown…Oh Where to Start
    I can only search…For “Words” to say…

    A SONG…

    “Regrets, I’ve had a few
    But then again, too few to mention
    I did what I had to do
    And saw it through without exemption”
    I DID IT MY WAY
    (Paul Anka…Frank Sinatra)

    QUOTES…

    – “A comfort zone is a beautiful place; but nothing ever grows there”
    (Unknown author)

    – “Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new”
    (Einstein)

    A POEM…

    “I am the master of my fate:
    I am the captain of my soul”
    (William Ernest Henley)

    With thanks, respect and admiration to Forrest and everyone for their amazing hearts and their dedication.

  130. Those were nice Ellen…here’s a quote from me k.

    ” it’s when you step out on a limb,

    You truly find where life begins. ”

    By : Focused

  132. By faith alone
    do twinkling lanterns
    in the sky above
    become heaven’s floor
    we dance upon. – Anna

    Lord Tennyson’s words below remind me often that love spent on others grief keeps them from drowning in tears. God Bless the good people reaching out to Randy’s family.

    “Let Love clasp grief,
    lest both be drown’d”

    – Alfred Lord Tennyson

  133. I can’t help but to live each day
    As if another weren’t coming my way.

    If I feel lost, it’s in my mind
    And surely not an easy find.

    But when I scale walls, climb rocks
    Get scraped, take tumbles and falls,

    I’m alive, and living my life’s best
    I just cannot let tomorrow rest.

    If I have nothing to look for
    Life soon becomes a bore

    And I’m not one to let time waste
    I have to give it a great big taste

    I’m hungry for more all the time
    and that is me to so define.

    Life is to live as dream is to dream
    It really can be as real as it may not seem.

  137. ” Seasonal Cabin ”

    The sky of blue , will soon fade away,

    Replaced by a somber , sky that is grey.

    Sunshine it hides, embarrassed still,

    Winds from the north , with it’s howling chill.

    “Ole man winter” , at his cabin retreat,

    Under his blanket of snow, he quietly sleeps.

    Months they pass, while he rests all alone,

    Enjoying the drafts, of his new winter home.

    Then came a knock, and a knock once again,

    A Voice from outside, saying “please let me in “.

    He opened the door, of his new drafty place,

    The sun it shined brightly, upon his cold face.

    Standing beyond, his now opened door,

    “The Man of spring” , with his sunshine galore.

    “Ole man winter”, must leave his cold room,

    “Spring” he moves in , with all of his blooms.

    For a month or so, the beauty emerges,

    The Flowers they bloom, and all life it surges.

    Springs stay is short, like a quick moving clock,

    Then outside his door, another heard knock.

    “Ole man summer” , he came to retreat,

    With him he brings, his suitcase of heat.

    The Creeks go dry, the hot days are long,

    Heard in the night, crickets singing his song.

    A knock once again, “summer” answers the door,

    It’s “Fall ” standing there , with his baggage galore.

    “My time to stay” , he says with a grin,

    And With him he brings, a slight chill in the wind.

    With Colors abound, in the trees very high,

    Against the subtle, light blue of the sky.

    Soon there’ll be nothing, bare trees all alone,

    A knock on the door, “ole man winters ” came home……….

    By : Focused

    P.s. Just letting my mind rest a little…..lately it has been on Randy,
    Rio Grande, frijoles, etc. …. This is my way of resting it….. Hats off
    To Cynthia, Sacha and everyone who has put out effort , both physically
    And mentally to find Randy….thank you.

    • Beautiful poem Focused…we’ll see what the Groundhog does this year. Will Spring be early or late?

    • Beautiful poem, Focused. Ole Man Winter will be placing a thick blanket of snow where I live today…7-14″ by morning. Brrr! If it’s heavy snow, there’s going to be a birth of a snowman and an “accidentally flung” snowball. 🙂

    • Great poem again, Focused. Your poem went full circle. Now I’m longing for the warmth of Spring. But…

      When will Spring start?
      It’s hard to set a date…
      Because summer early
      And summer late.

      • Thanks JC1117 ,

        You asked JC , when will spring start ?

        The answer you hold, right there in your heart.

        It’s not the temps , in the seasons we live,

        It’s the warmth in our hearts, as proudly we give.

        In springtime birds sing , their nesting mate songs,

        In my heart it’s spring, all the year long……….

        Just messing around with ya JC1117……see ya

        • A poem? For little ol’ me?

          https://i.ytimg.com/vi/ZrWgu9biL2s/hqdefault.jpg

          I thank You very much, Focused…from the bottom of my heart…and the top of my heart…encompassing all the chambers…all the way around…including the secret chambers. LOL! I could start listing anatomical terms…but you get the point.

          I can tell you are a very kind person. The world needs more people like you.

          Now as much as ever…and more…because the future is in our hands.

    • Thank you for another beautiful poem! It’s a nice distraction from the tragedy unfolding in front of us.
      Again, God has blessed you with a wonderful gift!

      • Thank you eaglesabound for your kind comment, sometimes I need to rest my mind from all the recent events with Randy. In poetry I can let my mind roam…I’m glad you enjoyed my words…good luck to ya eaglesabound in your chase….

  138. Thanks 23kachinas , glad you liked it . I hope it comes early…….I’m a summer person..lol good luck to ya 23kachinas, until next time…….see ya

  140. Dedicated Followers Of Fenn’s Passion. (The Kinks)

    They seek it here, they seek it there,
    His treasure hoard, it’s never there.
    It will make or break them so they’ve got to find the chest,
    ‘Cause they are dedicated followers of Fenn’s passion.

    And when they do their merry-go-rounds,
    ‘Round western towns and canyons down,
    Eagerly pursuing all the latest tips and solves,
    ‘Cause they are dedicated followers of Fenn’s passion.

    Oh yes they are (oh yes they are), oh yes they (oh yes they are).
    They think where warm waters halt, is a come down,
    And when they put in, below the home of Brown.
    They feel a dedicated follower of Fenn’s passion.

    Oh yes they are (oh yes they are), oh yes they (oh yes they are).
    There’s one thing that they love and that is to travel,
    One week they’re in Yellowstone, the next week they’re in New Mex.
    ‘Cause they are dedicated followers of Fenn’s passion.

    They seek it here, they seek it there,
    They tarry scant and marvel gaze.
    Everywhere the Fennabetian army marches on,
    Each one a dedicated follower of Fenn’s passion.

    Oh yes they are (oh yes they are), oh yes they (oh yes they are).
    Their world is built ’round forests and ghostly towns.
    These treasure-seeking individual’s always tries their best
    ‘Cause they are dedicated followers of Fenn’s passion.

    Oh yes they are (oh yes they are), oh yes they (oh yes they are).
    They flit from rock to rock just like a butterfly.
    In matters of their solves they are as fickle as can be,
    ‘Cause they are dedicated followers of Fenn’s passion.
    They are dedicated followers of Fenn’s passion.
    They are dedicated followers of Fenn’s passion.

    • Good job Meredog , sounds like me……lol. I enjoyed that, keep up the good work, ….good luck to ya in your chase……see ya

    • Hello, Spallies. Thank you. My contributions are almost negligible…but I’m glad that some enjoy them.

      There has been somewhat of a dark cloud over the chase as of late. It’s good to take a break and let your mind dwell on other things for a while…especially after a good effort and much time has been spent. I wish I lived closer to help out more with the search for Randy.

      I’d like to thank EVERYONE here for revealing your true selves…and wearing your hearts on your sleeves. I have seen it many times. I don’t want to make a list of names for fear that I will forget someone.

      The world is still full of good people…and I am grateful to ALL of you for that.

      http://cdn.pcwallart.com/images/lighthouse-storm-paintings-wallpaper-4.jpg

  144. ” Ravage Time ”

    You zip on by at ravage pace,

    While wrinkles grow upon my face,

    You worry not, nor do you care,

    Thinning loss, of my grey hair.

    Joints now ache, with slowly gait,

    You just watch, and patiently wait.

    Like a vulture on a dead branch high,

    Waiting for my , spirit to fly.

    I notice you high, upon your tree,

    Your feathers too, are grey like me.

    But Hear the words, roll off my tongue ,

    Within my heart , I am still young.

    So fly away , go far from here,

    I’m not ready , for you so near.

    I’ll live my life, as young folks do,

    No worry of time, no worry of you.

    For I’m not one, to sit around,

    And wait on you, and wear a frown.

    I know that someday, we’ll meet again,

    Until then just fly, upon the wind…….

    Listen close , my words of rhyme,

    You too are stalked, by ravage time.

    Don’t sit down , try not to stop,

    Rewind your ticking, inner clock.

    Kick up your heels, and have some fun,

    For if you “live” , you’ve already won………………

    By : Focused

    • Focused, very nice, it’s always a treasure to take the time to read your poems. Thanks

      • Your welcome Strawshadow .I’m glad you enjoy them….ya never know what the subject will be….lol I jump around alot … anyways …. good luck to you in your chase…. thank you for your kind comment… see ya

    • The “University of Fenn” Poet Laureate!

      Focused, if you aren’t careful, you are going to be really good at poetry writing.

      • Thanks BW for you kind comment…..like I’ve said before , there are ” hard to read ” poems out there that are great, written by the greats….. I try to write simple, using simple words that ” everyone ” can read and enjoy. This is my way expressing my thoughts to everyone , no mater the age or strength of reading skills …so they too can enjoy their ” thrill of the chase ” …. Sorry BW , there I went rambling again…lol good luck to you in your chase……see ya .. 🙂

        • Like teachers with ropes
          Each word from you, focused
          Like s ski down the slopes
          Like magic, hocus pocused.

          Thank you my friend
          For being there for all of us
          For in the end
          Having love is a plus.

          And it’s not just you who
          Has a heart of gold
          There’s cynthia and sacha too
          And old forrest so bold.

          We all share a thought
          For Randy to come home
          We hope, think and pray a lot,
          May not another so lonely roam.

          We are a falily, all of us here,
          Spallies. Cindym, michaeld and me,
          The lurkers, newbies and others who cheer,
          Thank you forrest, for a wonderful family.

          🙂

          • Great job my friend…..good to hear from ya, your right , this is one great bunch of people …. Thank you for your words of kindness…..many appreciate you…good luck to you my friend in your chase…..see ya

    • Thank JD , I’m glad you liked my words…..good luck to ya in the chase……until next time, see ya and ” live young “………

      • New One

        Though remarks I’ve neglected-
        And not stayed connected,
        I’ve watched your poetry unfold.

        And while I was slacking-
        A miracle happened,
        I have a grandson to hold!

        It’s as good a reason
        As any this season
        For my lack of participation.

        Now I’ll be waiting to see
        Everyone’s poetry
        With great anticipation.

        @ Focused,,, Your poems always astound me,,, I especially loved the changing of the seasons. Jdiggins,,, you’re such a funny girl and you guys ARE like family, no matter how you spell it. Great job everyone!

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