Poetry Page XVIII…


The chase certainly has inspired some great poetry…

Here is page xiv 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.

Second page is HERE

Third page is HERE

Fourth page is HERE

Fifth Page is HERE

Sixth Page is HERE

Seventh Page is HERE

Eighth Page is HERE

Ninth Page is HERE

Tenth Page is HERE

Eleventh Page is HERE

Twelfth Page is HERE

Thirteenth Page is HERE

Fourteenth Page is HERE

Fifteenth Page is HERE

Sixteenth Page is HERE

Seventeenth Page is HERE



450 thoughts on “Poetry Page XVIII…

  1. Guess I’m one of the first to post on this new poetry page.

    I wrote a song several years ago, before I even knew of the Chase. But since I think it has a couple of relevant clues, I thought I would include it. I won’t give away my entire solve, but I think it’ll help lead someone to the right spot. Anyway, as song writing is a form of poetry, and I’m still a newbie at poetry, I figured I’d give it another round…

    Please forgive my lack of expertise.

    “Grandpa and Me (Gone Fishing)”

    Most of these days you can find us
    hangin’ out at Cherokee Lake.
    Take Highway 59 past the state line
    and turn down River Edge Lane.

    The “No Trespassing” signs past Shadow Creek Bridge
    means you’re headed on the right way.
    You follow the dirt road down through the trees,
    look to your left and then you’ll see.

    Grandpa and Me… Gone Fishing

    Well the catfish are runnin’ and bullfrogs are jumpin’
    through the thick of Cattail Weeds.
    Our shadows stand tall from the fading sun
    as we cast beneath the trees.

    We’re hooked to the sound of reels a windin’
    In the autumn tempered breeze.
    It’s gotta be heaven on earth, you know,
    there’s no place we’d rather be.

    Grandpa and Me… Gone Fishing

    So the next time you’re on Highway 59
    and need a place to go fishing,
    You can stop by our bait and tackle shop
    because advice is always free.

    But this time of year don’t even bother to think
    that you’ll find my Grandpa and Me.
    ‘Cause the doors will be locked, not a soul in sight,
    and a sign in the window that reads…

    Grandpa and Me… Gone Fishing!

      • Thank you, Brian u!

        Well, I’ll have to admit, it’s not my first attempt at writing songs… then again, I’m no Johnny Cash either. I think you’d better get the picture if you heard it.

        BTW – I’m well aware of those 2 line songs, I think I’ve got a million…!

    • I do like that poem, so I wrote one too. At times, I felt like I was a prodigal son, but I got tired of feeling that way, so I changed my name to the Golden Sun.

      Golden Sun:
      The man with many faces, has but only one,
      Its cold beneath the raindrops, but glitters in the sun.
      Yet each and every day, it beckons to the ear,
      As I have gone alone in there, I am alone in here.

    • Good job Quency…. it really makes me want to go fishing..lol reminds me of the Good ole days… thanks for the memories past my friend…
      Have a great night…. until next time… see ya

      • I used to go fishing a lot when I was younger, not so much anymore. Just goes to show… those childhood memories are the best and those that are kept forever.

        Reminds me of the first time I took my oldest son fishing. We just threw a bobber in the water with a worm on a hook. My son didn’t see me put the worm on though, so he didn’t even know one was there. When he got nibble, he quickly reeled it in, but didn’t catch anything. That didn’t bother him any. He said, “Look dad, I caught a worm!”

        Thanks so much for your comments!

        • “Look dad, I caught a worm!”

          Awww, how innocent the words of the young. I love it! You put a smile on my face, Quency. Thank you for sharing that moment.

      • Thanks again RL for your compliments.

        I can’t seem to locate a copy of the song at the present, but if I do, maybe I can figure out a way to get it to you.

        In the event that I can send it your way, you’ll have to make me a promise though. If you think your composition sounds better than mine (which shouldn’t be hard 😉 ), you’ll have to share with me!

        What say ya, deal?

        • Problem is, I’m no musician, though I make up songs and sing all the time, which thankfully, my wife finds endearing. Why don’t you put it up on YouTube?

          • LOL, you may be a musician and don’t even know it. Making up songs is how all music is created. And yes, it helps to have an endearing wife with a once-upon-a-while compliment.

            YouTube?? My music is probably past its prime to consider that… and let’s not mention anything about my age. In elderlyhood, the Eagles made a comeback. In youth, mine never got off the ground!

  2. This ones for you Quency. It’s my version of “Gone Fishing”… thanks for the inspiration, I hope you like it…. see ya my friend

    “Gone Fishing”

    My pole is all ready, new line on the spool,

    My fly box is loaded, so ready to fool.

    My waders they hang, with feet in the air,

    My net hangs beside them, so ready to snare.

    My hat on a hook, my vest hanging near,

    In silence the water, it’s ripples I hear.

    An image I see, it’s been burned in my brain,

    A great peaceful morning, no forecast of rain.

    A stroke of my rod, my line softly lay,

    Atop of the current, and moving away.

    A twitch of my rod, my tongue in my cheek,

    A quick sudden jerk, the one that I seek.

    My heart is all in it, my visions are true,

    I dream of the water, and a sky that is blue.

    It warms me to feel, the chase and the bite,

    While outside the grounds, all covered in white….

    By: Focused

  3. “The Long Winter”

    As one page ends so another will turn
    The poems within us forever shall burn
    Take wise the chase if you so yearn
    Up to the Rockies with what you learn

    Be careful now you may be right
    Many more will test your will to fight
    Make a promise that’ll free your might
    Rejoice you may over their blight

    The long winters cold will take a toll
    The long winters night will test a soul
    The long winters peace will give a lull
    The long winters breath will save us all.

    Pauley T

  4. Just a little poem. The Chase.

    As I lie here ill and an aging man, my heart and soul still sing and clap of the boy I really am. Memorie’s run fast as time is in a race. I have to hide a treasure, not far from my life in the holy place. Two paths diverted to a wooded place – I took the one not used by the modern race – but the one of the forgotten race. Where the trees bend to give directions to my special place. Where the blaze and leaves shine brightly, singing of birds heared slightly as the summer breeze flows through the trees and brush past my face just lightly. As i gaze at the land that flourishes from the waters high, helped from the creator above, he lives up there in the sky. As my imagination takes me back in to the past, I saw a spirit – a ghost walk past. A feather in his hair from and eagle that flys freely up there. Was it to remind me of the forgotten race? I will write a poem and call it “The Chase” A treasure hunt that will bring you here to this special place. So why is it I must go and bring my chest ? I think you will know. I will add nine clues to help you on your way, understood correctly will bring you this way. As you pass from clue to clue you will gain a history lesson well overdue. When you find the chest so bold. remember this……. I give you title to the gold.
    In the rocky mountains. 8.25 miles north of Santa fe.

    • Just a little more.
      The creature provides us with water from the Mountains high the creeks are shallow and some are dry. As I stop pray I see the water sway I must be brave to stay. As I touch the stone at side I hear an Eco from inside, as my feet clunk on the wood Im feeling cold as I would. When I got to see the Sun I felt warm as a bun. What is It the Blaze you see is It the Sun or is It Me? I have more to say but will keep it for an other day. Who is it the man you see its not me i am a she? Not near a man made structure.

      • Read above part one and two.
        Paul Hunter- UK Paul Paul.
        As i sit here in the U.K. i let my imagination run away. A i stand in this place and gaze i can see the Mountain blaze with all the colors of the leafs i have never seen that many trees. As the cold water flows closer it gets warmer and its a distance from me. As i am stood where i should be the cold water flows away from me down the Mountain through mother earth towards me its as far as the eye can see its to far for me. As i am here in this special place i hear the water sway its warm to me. As i stand here in this place i have a big smile upon my face, its a blaze. As i look i can see a flat rock it looks like a cover to me, and as i look closer i see a frog staring at me and it said have you come from over the sea to put us in a museum for all to see.
        My solution to the nine clues.

        • Paul, thanks for your solution. Great poem and imagination. Just curious, where did that frog come from? Did it leap out of the chest or did it come from underfoot? I’ve seen a few of them in my search area, but I think they were the bullfrog variety.

  5. Where is the center of a man?

    Is it in his heart, or in his mind?
    Does he hold it in his hand?

    Or does it fall midpoint on a reel
    Of time that shifts like sand?

    Or perhaps his center is somewhere else, beyond what is defined.

    If you can say, I’d like to know
    Please tell me if you can…

    Where exactly does one find
    The center of a man?

    by RonnyLee

  6. I did not go alone up there
    to find the treasure bold;
    it was the mighty eagle where
    he summoned me upon a dare.

    But as it was and so shall be, my legs grew tired and oh so weak,
    I could not climb nor breathe or speak.
    The elevation it was too high
    and so my chance just passed me by.

    I shall not complain or cry in despair;
    as that eagle above has heard my prayer.
    And so now I stand and gaze in awe,
    of the mighty giant and the winter’s thaw.

  7. the treasures in the waves you’ve walked/ the treasures the thoughts well thought/ who enough to hold your treasured hand/ no man/ and only now to late it’s known, the crashing worlds of land and sea/ one upon the lowly stone the other freely flows as water through the rose and blooms in beauty there alone/ you/ this treasured distant land of gems, apart not plain/ and at best be held by only sight and memory and imaginations earthly try

  8. WWW & Hank, I thank you.
    Both of you have creatively inspired me with your a mazing poems…

    “Stone and Water”

    Upon the stone is poured water
    From out of the water pores stone

    The two touch in unity
    Both are married as one

    Above is a turquoise ocean
    Below is a sea of green

    Their chalice can’t help but lure me
    Securing the radiance of dreams

  9. A Draught

    By RonnyLee

    From this chalice known as life
    We all will drink our fill

    Some will sip and others quaff
    While some drink by the gill

    Some take dainty sips
    Measured out in daily doses

    Others drink only Sunday draughts
    Garnished with attar of roses

    Some forego such measured fare
    They roughly grasp the cup

    They toss back the chalice with a flair
    And spew it out their noses!

  10. You all are amazing! I have to ask. Are any of you professionals hidden behind a mask? Or does Fenn’s Poem deliberately cause this heartwarming influence of creativity?

    • I think we are all just smelling the sunshine while we can. I enjoy a puzzle, and that’s what a poem is—sort of a puzzle that shares a piece of thought in a unique way.

    • Quency,
      I have written between 350 to 375 poems here on the poetry page over the past 7 years. Every word in every poem was inspired by the chase. Before i entered the chase i had never written a poem in my life… so for me..
      Yep, 100% of my words are because of Forrest… crazy how many people he has inspired…..
      Have a great night… until next time…. see ya my friend

  11. I’m very unlucky.
    So, don’t try to convince me that
    I am a lucky person
    Because at the end of the day
    The chest is so far away.
    And I am not going to lie to myself by saying
    That I am the lead searcher
    So rest assured I will remind myself
    That I am the unluckiest person
    And nothing you say will make me believe
    I deserve the treasure
    Because no matter what
    I am not lucky enough to be rich
    I’m in no position to believe that
    Luckiness exist in me
    Because whenever I look at the poem, I always think
    Am I as unlucky as people say?

    Now read from the bottom up.

    • Robert, I think you found La Key to humorous poetry! You may also have found La Key to winning the treasure! Great job & very clever.

      Thank you my fiend!

    • Hello Robert. When I originally read your poem in a normal fashion, I was feeling sad for what I was reading. After reading as you suggested at the end, I see there is no encouragement needed from me. It’s a clever poem. Keep up the good work. 🙂

    • When I read it at first, I thought, “Wow, this person needs help.” Then, when I read it the other way, I really knew this person needs help. Ha ha! 😉
      Good poem, Robert.

  12. I want to thank everyone for the great penning. Sorry im not replying to each of you personally as i usually do. Ive been on the road to denver, im here now and tired… ive enjoyed all of your words…thanks again for keeping the poetry page going, hopefully soon things for me will ne back to normal…
    Until next time… see ya my friends

  13. “The Critters”

    How strange it may be
    that upon the land
    A treasure is hidden
    from the eyes of man.

    Even stranger it seems,
    though hidden from man,
    We animals may venture
    where wealth might just be.

    Us chipmunks and squirrels,
    we run to and fro,
    Keep an eye on the prize,
    its value unknown.

    The treasure means nothing
    when you burrow and climb.
    So pay no attention,
    if even we fly.

    The secret’s still kept
    and hidden from view,
    which man cannot find,
    known only by two

    Two people you say?
    How can that be?
    The answer is simple
    if you’d see our dreams.

  14. Nick Nack paddy Whack
    Toss us searchers a bone
    10 years of searching
    and so little is known.

    A hint, a clue
    A message from you!
    Scrapbooks or pictures
    Maybe a mixture.

    A word is key
    no stanzas a lock
    I don’t Ski
    So for now I’ll walk

    13 endeavors thus far
    some by plane, some by car
    until the snow melts
    you can find me at the bar.

  15. 1st poem look above.
    The creator provides us with water from the Mountain high
    the creeks are shallow and running dry.
    As I stop and pray I see the water sway, I must be brave to stay.
    As I touch the stone at side I hear an echo from inside, as my feet
    clunk on the wood I’m feeling cold as I would.
    When I got to see the Sun I felt warm like a bun.
    What is the Blaze you see? is it the Sun or is it Me?
    I have more to say but will leave it for a special day.
    Who is that you can see not a man I am a She.
    PS not near a man-made structure

  16. The Golden Hoard of Fenn
    By RonnyLee

    It’ll take some pluck to pluck with luck
    The Golden hoard of Fenn

    There’s many believe they’ll find the blaze
    But none can answer when.

    “Next Spring will bring the elusive thing,”
    Is the thought most frequently said.

    When there’s a few in tight focus
    With no hocus-pocus…the poem to the map they’ve wed.

    But year upon year has stealthily passed
    It’s better to not count the days.

    So hear a good searcher and listen to wisdom
    When he so sagaciously says…

    It’ll take grand pluck to pluck with luck
    That Golden hoard of Fenn’s.

    • I enjoyed your poem, RonnyLee. It’s been 5 1/2 years for me trying to think the same thoughts of Mr. Fenn. A lot of thinking involved when figuring out the poem.

    • Ronny, great poem!

      Your pluck got me slightly out of tune though. You’re either talking music, urgency, or a spirit of resolve. Then again, maybe a triad chord was intended.

    • Picking threads and picking strings
      and plucking the chords of those mighty wings.
      Just thinking and strumming as the days grow long,
      till at last it is written…the words to our Song.

      Ronny – awesome poetry.
      You have a way with words.
      Thanks for sharing.
      (Hope you didn’t care that I added a bit more to your thoughts.)

        • I think your drift finally sailed into port. Sorry, it was close quarters in there, had to wait for another drift to leave port.

          Promptuitiveness is always the best word, only overridden by preparedtiveness and safetivity. With time, grouchivitous can most times be overcome.

          (PS) Talk about inspiration! Making up words is the key to an exciting new form of harmony! Thank you FF!

  17. “The Eye that Sees”

    Below I harness
    olden shoes
    a lampstand guides my flight.

    Above, the tears
    are a native bird,
    a precious place in time.

    To the left there’s
    a question in my ear,
    resonant echoes arrive.

    To the right
    I realize a disgruntled face
    who might search but never find.

    In wandering ‘round
    this place of thoughts.
    their beauty, the sweetest wine.

    They touch my heart,
    they caress my soul,
    they tug at the place that binds.

    And in seeking all,
    I look ahead,
    and in reaching, look behind.

    But most of all,
    these mem’ries near,
    still desire a place to climb.

  18. bold Mr Badger leads the band/ Joe Bears howling deep and low/ Hank’s strumming harder from above/ where the river loves this canyon country town/ this place where musics hugging trees the notes fall dripping off and leave to the ears of all the critters gathered there/ and the river loves their canyon country town

  19. Oh… the winter months do make ones mind wonder.
    There is a chest full of booty to be found and to plunder.
    Having to wait on the search and not wanting to sound crass.
    But knowing right now it colder than a well diggers ass.
    Boots on the ground now would be a snowy endeavor.
    But waiting till spring, seems like waiting forever.
    I’ve convinced myself that my logic is sound.
    I only need now to put boots on the ground.
    The blaze I still ponder and my thoughts run astray.
    Forrest makes me wonder, what the heck was he thinking that day.
    If I do find the chest and the title I then hold.
    I will not think of cold water and how I was bold.
    I will dig into the chest, looking first for Fenn’s whole story.
    Then sit against a tree and delve into his past and relive his old glory.
    Finding Forrest would then be the next great quest.
    To return the bracelet that was found in the chest.

    • I hope it’s not as much as me… my brain’s on overload!
      (Robot arms slapping me upside the face)
      “Danger, danger, danger Will Robinson!”
      (Or Scotty onboard the Starship Enterprise)
      “I can’t push her any harder, I think she’s gonna blow Captain!”

  20. Furlongs, rods, links, and chains
    Weave trickish knots within our brains,
    And without some teacher to explain
    How poring over tomes of knoledge
    Will turn the key to our advantage,
    Or if digging in a deep hole longer
    Will prove our imagination stronger;
    In this arcane architecture,
    Alone we learn to plumb and measure,
    And come to know without conjecture
    The place where lies our hidden treasure.

    By RonnyLee

    The depth of winter hinders the lead hunter
    while in distress of the myriads behind him.
    He senses the perseverance of the searcher,
    and with wit, they can pull ahead on a whim.

    He may be inspired by the thrill of competition
    while risking the journey of happenstance.
    Or maybe he reposed to the realm of remission,
    because of opposing forces and circumstance.

    His mind overflows with impeccable confidence
    and he knows his degree of accuracy is precise.
    He has discerned from writings of relevance,
    that it is he, who will promenade unto paradise

    Quick-wittedness is the strive he must endure
    as to him, searchers are now a hungry chaser
    and indulgence has become of dire conquer,
    while his quest is to be hunter and gatherer.

  22. Love your poems RonnyLee and OH!, but surely you both jest…

    Chisels will come
    and chisels will go.
    But the art of imagination
    must be chiseled just so.

    Though we light that spark,
    and want it grow.
    In gaining new heights
    we all want to crow.

    So we learn if we can,
    learn if we will.
    It’s sometimes near bursting
    when we’ve just had our fill.

    And as we continue our search
    for that ambiguous treasure
    Our only next hope
    is a correct tape measure.

  23. “ Fly Away “

    We seek for gold, a treasures lore,

    But shall we seek, for so much more?

    The sparkle of, a diamonds shine,

    Can not shine past, the end of time.

    Nor massive nuggets, of earthly weight,

    Bare the same, at our futures gate.

    So as I gaze, into my fire,

    I search or answers, my hearts desire.

    A emeralds green, a sapphires blue,

    Will stay behind, once I am through.

    My mind, like flames, it dances around,

    To realize my treasure, I’ve already found.

    My peace within, my internal gold,

    It’s weight I bare, my heart it holds.

    So if today’s, my final day,

    I’ll take my treasures, and I’ll fly away…..

    By: Focused

      • RonnyLee,
        Sorry I haven’t penned much. With all that behind me now maybe I can get some words flowing again. I have enjoyed reading your words as I peeked in from time to time… thank you…
        I’m glad you liked it my friend…

        “Sometimes what we seek, we’ve had all along”

        I’m glad to be back also my friend…have a great night… until next time… see ya RonnyLee

      • Thank you wwwamericana for such kind words….. you can bet I’ll drop some your way my friend… sharing has never been a problem for me my friend….lol

        “You get what you give”

        That’s my motto….lol have a great night… see ya wwwamericana

      • Yes I made it home safe, it was a snow and icy drive to Denver and again coming home…lol … I really like the warmer temps here in Arkansas, you can keep that snow…lol
        I’m glad you liked my words pdenver, enjoy your treasures my friend… have a good night and a better tomorrow….. until next time… see ya

    • Gosh Focused That Denver air must be good for you! This is my new favorite! I know I say that all the time but until next time I mean it 🙂

      • Lol… I think it was the lack of oxygen Spallies .. I’m flattered that this one is your new fav till next time…..
        Enjoy your true treasures my friend… until next time… see ya Spallies

  24. I’m back home now… thanks everyone for keeping this page going… your words have been a pleasure to read…. thank you….. until next time… see ya

  25. As I sit here watching America’s Got Talent, I have to bow to my fellow participants because, IMO, you all have earned “Best of the Show”!

    • Along with you my friend… I’ve enjoyed reading your words… thank you Quency….
      Have a great day and remember to enjoy the little things as you go about it….. until next time.. see ya

  26. “ Within My Hands “

    I walk into the desert, the smell of smoke is near,

    I hear some voices calling, so gently on my ears.

    I turn and look behind me, just me, I’m all alone,

    The past is speaking to me, from others who are gone.

    The sky above is cloudy, a breeze it gently blows,

    The smell of nearby rain, so subtle on my nose.

    I look up to a Mesa, brown and standing tall,

    I hear their voices louder, the ancients as they call.

    They welcomed me among them, into their native home,

    A place that they had lived, before they died and gone.

    One voice it calls me over, to nearby fallen stones,

    She says that it’s the place, her people called their home.

    An overhanging ledge, with rooms built there below,

    In awe I stand there gazing, my amazement surly showed.

    I see an ancient fire pit, I smell the ancient ash,

    I see some broken pottery, just laying where they smashed.

    That is when I seen it, sitting proudly by a wall,

    A perfect pot with markings, no Cracks on it at all.

    The ancient voice then tells me, to take her cherished pot,

    Made by her own hands, with clay she went and got.

    She says to show the world, that yes she once was here,

    Then she softly faded, her voice fell from my ears.

    And with her pot in hand, I leave past nearby stones,

    I promised Her I’d share, the stories of her home.

    A gentle rain starts falling, the breeze still softly blows,

    My ancient friend had gone, Like me it’s time to go.

    The desert holds her secrets, her life here in the sand,

    Me I hold her craftsmanship, her gift within my hands….

    By: Focused

  27. Thank you RonnyLee, I just wanted to paint a picture and make the reader feel as if they were there too….sometimes I use a little to much paint…lol have a great night… until next time.. see ya RonnyLee

    • What beautiful words Paulette…. if you felt like you was there with me, then yes, my paint was fine…lol
      Yep, I made it home safely, thank you….
      Have a great night Paulette and have even a better tomorrow. Enjoy the little things, because in the grand scope of life they are huge… until next time… see ya my friend….

  28. I wake up with the chase on my mind
    While trolling the blogs I try to be kind

    As the judges sit, watch and listen
    Others venture out seeking fruition

    I wrote this poem in less than a minute
    Forrest’s poem got many into a swivet

    The winters fading soon you’ll dust it off
    To the Rockies we run like to the trough

    Get off the couch and get those boots tied
    Don’t get discouraged from those who lied

    Somebody please help me carry the gold
    I hope to exhale that from the place of cold

    Keep a secret while searching that forest
    The finder should write a play with a chorus

    I thought many times where the treasure may be
    I’ve eliminated the desert, plains and the sea

    Forrest told us all to use his book and poem
    Who’s this Brown and where’s that darn home?!

    Still I search from this comfortable bliss
    Better luck finding the monster of lochness

    One thing in common you, Forrest and me
    We’re all waiting for the news of where it be. 🙂

    Pauley T

  29. A memory from two winters ago during a full-moon

    Moon-tide dreams,
    Et espiritu,
    Dancing with words,
    My shadow moon-lit,
    Silhouette for every thing,
    Below zero creatures stirring,
    Crossing a holyfield,
    Seeing my breath,
    A spirit breath,
    Scattered on wind,
    A flash of light,
    A sound of thunder,
    In the darkness,
    Begin human being,
    Measurement by snow print,
    Starring up starting stars,
    No false steps,
    Resolution resouled resolved,
    Walking indivisibly among clouds,
    Cold against lungs,
    Slope against thighs,
    Smells of winter,
    Coyotes howling in my distance,
    Are they coming,
    Goes it so,
    Yore snowflakes in my hair,
    As I bat my eye-lashes,
    Place of butterfly wings,
    Flutter in God’s wind,
    I catch thought of you,
    Thoughts returning home,
    Dark or day,
    Upon a winter solstice night,
    A second-hand textile weaver,
    In some circles, a native son,
    A nativity scene,
    You when I dream,
    You why I think,
    You who I please,
    How do I fail you,
    How hard to push,
    How far to run,
    Crossing the fennish line,
    What keeps us here,
    But each other,
    A cold effort worth,
    Sometimes I wonder,
    And sometimes I wander,
    Waking the cat nap,
    From a good dream,
    Deep, remember to breathe,

  30. Very lovely, Soulstice. Thank you.

    And to all: Happy Valentine’s to all – especially those without one. You can be my Valentine if you’d like! I’ll gladly share my heart.

    • IveFlownHome,
      Happy valentines to you too my friend… share your heart year round and you’ll like what goodies land in your box… until next time… see ya

        • I can hardly believe my eyes! Grown people expressing well-wishes and sentiments of love on a public blog…

          and worst of all, you left me out!

          Seriously, I wish that someday the whole world could find this type of peace and joy… the poetry of life.

          Wishing the very best to all.

  31. The Work of the Potter
    By RonnyLee

    The potter firmly places
    Simple earth upon his wheel
    Then with his gentle hand’s embrace
    He throws by sense of feel

    From quickened lumpen clay arises
    Unique in essence from the start
    A useful potter’s vessel nice as
    Any guilded craftsman’s work of art

    Once the bowl seasoned in time
    Is painted kilned and fired
    It emerges shining as glass sublime
    A decorated dish to be admired

    Such a lovely vessel finds its form
    In use enjoyed in every way
    And whether filled with cool or warm
    Performs so aptly day by day

    Should perchance the bowl be broken
    By fault or nil upon the floor
    It’s pieces gathered in a cloak
    And taken to the potter’s door

    A broken bowl the potter’s care
    Will seek to heal and mend
    He’ll lace the wounds with iron bands
    And draw them tightly closed again

    (…remember scrapbook 237?)

  32. Out watering the trees
    I still hear my good girl’s wheeze
    How steady and cold are earthly harms
    One last “bye-bye”, passed in my arms.

    Out making new friends, she is
    And kissing old ones and all she sees
    Now ready and bold her spirited gait
    Wins my heart sure, heaven must wait.

  33. As I went alone in there, winter began to unfold
    All this time been reading, outside it’s really cold.
    Waiting for stars to line up, gonna finish and get the gold.

    Poetry sounded good in wwh, rhyming in my head
    Got to typin on the puter, it came out like a ball of lead.

    Back to Google maps, looking at home of brown
    Thinking about spring,and getting outta town.

  34. Seeing the heart in the mirror

    Why do you love me?
    Because you believe you are unlovable.
    Why are you here?
    Because you do not deserve to be alone.
    Why do I feel such pain?
    Because you care, even though you say you don’t.
    Why can I not know happiness?
    Because to be happy is to admit you are lovable, you deserve to be with someone, that you care and want to open your heart to others.
    Who are you?
    I am you, and I need you to forgive me.

    Remember our spouses, friends and family are not the only ones in our lives. Happy Valentines Day!

  35. __xxxxxxxxxxx______xxxxxxxxxx

  36. “Who half doubted”
    Hunter’s treasuring things we’ll never forget
    and no we”ll never regret
    if only just memories
    but there’s more you haven’t seen yet
    I’ve read the books
    The Thrill severyl times
    it marinates inside me
    next to my brandy it brines
    been boots on the ground
    more times then addmitted
    if I told you how many
    you wood have me committed
    it only takes once
    or two find the treasure
    but the places I’ve been
    bring so much pleasure
    that doesn’t dispel
    the Notions you canseev
    it’s all right there
    inside I believe
    other avenues of course
    we all plunder
    as long as the glass is
    still half full of wonder
    it’s real easy if you’re doing it right
    just look for the brightness
    and you’ll see the light
    still not impressed
    you’re not paying attention
    when I read between the lines
    I feel like invention
    eccentric is not like concentric
    it takes another route
    instead of going in circles
    it simply figures things out
    for those of you who don’t think
    the treasure is real
    perhaps we haven’t been hearing
    Forests primary spiel
    no one goes through this kind of extent
    brothers and sisters it’s clearly Heaven Sent
    studying hymn I learned more than I could see
    If the chase were gone tomorrow
    where wood that leave you and me
    and could this Orchestra play on
    without a banco to lay on
    so if anyone here is still reading this
    Then you’ve figure it out and godin the gist
    Ps. Every once in a while I get things turned around.
    Thesis an incredible possibility!

  37. Happy Valentine’s Day, Forrest. I wrote this Haiku for you

    Climbing the mountain,
    A bush in bloom near the top.
    My thoughts turn to you.

  38. Cupid’s cool
    He sets the rules
    Cupid dances with many

    Cupid sings
    He sets the string
    Cupid’s arrow is giddy

    Cupid pulls
    He sets it free
    But soon decides its chancy

    Cupid watches
    in disbelief
    For without a heart, it’s vanity

  39. Here’s a poem with a Valentine’s theme. I wrote this when I was a very young and callow fellow, chasing vanity…about 36 years ago.

    The Fact of Passion
    By RonnyLee

    With one foot on the ground
    And the other in the stars
    A lover is borne to passion
    By Venus and by Mars

    Love’s invitation beckons true
    But War’s invasion grips the
    Heart and Love becomes
    A part of War
    And War of Love a part

    Passion’s Fire is ignited
    By this duality
    Which is consumed and purified
    By the fire of Passion’s storm

    Now what was plural becomes as one
    And behind is left a
    Common base — A universal
    Stuff that Lovers make when
    They loose themselves in tight embrace

    Yet Mars and Venus still hold reign
    Their heavenly bodies
    Remain unscathed by the heat
    Of Passion’s Fire

    ‘Tis the grounded Lover who feels the pain
    And the heartache of desire

  40. On this day of hearts
    Take a walk with me
    On a map throw darts
    Together we’ll go see

    We’ll find the treasure
    Just wait you’ll dance
    We’ll find a pleasure
    Come take a chance

    Take a trip to a canyon
    How much fun it will be
    The view we’ll be gazin
    We’ll sit there till three

    Open the Vastness
    And look on in
    It won’t get past us
    Watch it all begin

    We’ll find the treasure
    Just wait you’ll see
    We’ll find a pleasure
    Come find it with me. 🙂

    For all the Lovers. 🙂

    Pauley T

  41. The gift of another sunrise.
    The promise of a new day.
    Nearby friends blazing wise,
    The light that shows the way.

    When every day is a treasure,
    As the golden sun shines bright.
    The ease of Winter is measured,
    By the warmth of Spring’s delight.

    How far is too far to walk?
    According to the fighter pilot ace.
    Rest assured my solve is a lock,
    Thanks to The Thrill of The Chase.

    • Amazing RL! You solved it… what took you so long? Now what is it again?

      I wonder if the rose touching Peggy’s glasses means to see the world thru rose colored glasses. I think I’d like a pair! And some rose colored glasses too.

    • Ladies and gentlemen! This is the code that cracks the nut!
      First, print it on a dot matrix, tractor feed printer, then soak in lemon juice, heat the paper to precisely 450 degrees Fahrenheit, scan the results into photoshop, run a Gaussian filter on the image. I assure you, with the utmost of sincerity…ALL WILL BE REVEALED.
      The treasure is as good as mine.

    • Ronny, old buddy, old pal. Remember me? We shared poetry. You wouldn’t leave me out now… would you? My last dot matrix printer stopped working 30 years ago! Not to mention, my wife just used the last of the lemon juice.

      • How about a bunches of O’s to go with your X’s above?


        • Are you calling me a nut? I’m no nut, just crazy… according to some Ph.Ds and MDs anyway.

          A Poem
          Roses are red
          Violets are blue
          I have visions
          That loosen my screws
          Oh screws, oh screws
          Where have you gone?
          Two drinks in a blizzard
          And I’m a darn wizard
          No one likes to be made a fool
          Tearing things down is not cool
          Fire the engines and buckle up tight
          It’s a dangerous life when you see the light
          Rest is the cure from the current state
          of hoping that others may someday relate
          Been on this road all my life
          Still haven’t found a loving wife
          Wishing no harm to any living thing
          Just wanting safety and a familiar being
          So sorry for all and coming up short
          I’m shrinking with age and will not report
          My children are love
          My life was for them
          I don’t have the strength to do it again
          Not even for Forrest the Fenn.
          But that’s just today
          Tomorrow we’ll see
          If folks can handle
          Being honest with me


          • The RL.

            And if ya wanna hang with me, you have to be willing to take it second by second. 🙂 Two seconds work best.

            My welcome is worn.

            Glad to have made the acquaintance of those on the poetry page.

            Happy 2020.

  42. I wish I was a glow-worm
    A glow-worm’s never glum
    ‘Coz how can you be grumpy when
    the sun shines out your bum.

    hmmmm.. why do I sound like I’m talking in circles..?

    • thanks Spallies, nice to know that nothing ever escapes your HoD (eagle-eyes) SoH 🙂

      and yes, there may be a mildly renewed glow at both ends re: my re-enthusiasm for TTOTC recently ..and even have a few new theories on the ‘key-word’, but alas cannot find the ‘key-word’ thread/page/forum anywhere?? – i’m totally lost Spallies

      i mean..where the heck is Obi-Wan (Dal) Kenobi when ya need him?? tsk tsk

    • What a way to start the morning, my friend! Thank you for the laughter held within your poem, curious hobbit! It’s good to see you posting again!

    • thanks pdenver (& Quency)

      apols for no reply to any recent/past messages, but not receiving email prompts so am lost in translation so to speak – but don’t worry, usual story of my life

      hope you (and the gang) are well, as always – and why haven’t you found that darn TC yet?!

  43. Ronny, I’m pretty sure you’re messing with us when it comes to all that talk about drinking. However, I wrote this poem for all who look to conquer that alcoholic disease.

    “Those Greater Things”

    When your headed on that long way down,
    I know it’s easy to have a drink around.

    As I’ve too been down that narrow road,
    I’ve learned to refrain from that phrase called skoals.

    When thoughts ran rampant, I knew it was true,
    there was some lost freedom, something greater to do.

    I thought to myself, what does this mean?
    Could I change who I am to be a greater being?

    At age 66, must I grab my seat,
    when I really thought I could just grab my feet?

    So I pulled myself back from that dreadful addiction
    to search new heights for that echoing redemption.

    Still I asked myself this, “Could this handle really claim
    more worth when reaching for that greater thing?”

    “And could I really listen to that bugle’s blow
    when seeking that rodent down below?”

    Like you, I’ve walked down that distant road.
    But when all seems lost, we must still find hope.

    So search for that friend that can take your hand,
    a person of strength to make that new stand.

    Then ask yourself this… as your last glass empties out,
    “Should I simply look forward to where life dribbles down?”

    by Quency

  44. Dang, I step away from the poetry page and you guys have took off…lol so many great words to read. If I try to reply to each and every one, Dal’s server will start smoking…. I don’t think it can handle the load, so I’ll say “Great Penning” everyone!!! Times like this I feel like I’m sitting at the back of the bus… lol
    Quency, I like your addiction poem, it reminded me of “ Whiskey River” that I wrote several years ago… I’ve written several poems on fighting addictions, and Whiskey River was one of my favorites…. thanks for the memory my friend…
    Curious hobbit, I caught wind that you were lurking around… I fired up the Barbie , saddled the horses and packed a cold one….. where we going?
    Have a great day everyone…. until next time… see ya

  45. Thanks Focused (and everyone else). It’s great to get compliments from the “Grand Masters” of poetry themselves. So I’ll leave one more poem that might help break that habitual routine of everyday drinking. The friend I’ll call Joe, because the drink is… well, called Joe. Hope you all enjoy.

    “Joe’s Cup”

    Joe’s cup overflows with kindness.
    His tin is filled to the height.
    It pours out to all who venture
    to Joe’s camp on a wintry cold night.

    Its fragrance is said to lure strangers.
    Its brew is said to lace love.
    It’s claimed to even reach heaven
    and sing to the angels above.

    It’s stewing below in the embers,
    the warmth of that cup is sustained.
    Its intent, the kindest gesture.
    Its treasure-told memories insane.

    The contents as always speak “welcomes”…
    a blaze in itself, it awaits.
    Like the heart and the smile within Joe,
    it ushers the most sensual taste.

    Even now as the campfire burns laden,
    dwindling and ready to cease,
    the froth of that cup spills over,
    given freely, with no need of “please”.

    So savor a sweet sip at Joe’s fire.
    Breath the aroma that storys self-words.
    Chase that Thrill to a new adventure.
    Maybe, too, you’ll shout of what’s learned.

    by Quency

    • I like your poem, Quency. One drink I never cared for after my first sip. Making a pot for my husband, I hold my breath to get past the initial filling. I know, I know…I’m a lightweight. (Giggle.)

    • I loved it Quency!! You have a way with words, that make me thirst for more… great penning my friend… have a great day… until next time… see ya my friend..

  46. My blazing thirst for sharing here has been pretty much quenched. It’s been fun. Maybe I’ll check back in after the blanket of ice has melted and I get back from BOTG. We’ll see if the effort is worth the cold.
    Until then..see ya.

    Here’s an anagram for you to ponder til then:

    No place for the meek
    Poker face helmet on

    • Ah come on RonnyLee, surely your not leaving us hanging and thirsty for your words?
      But in the same breath, I also understand that a break from time to time is good for food for thought…
      Take care my friend, your words will be missed, until the ice melts… especially by me…
      Take care RonnyLee, until next time…. see ya my friend…

      P.s- there’s no ice in Arkansas …. just saying.. lol

  47. Ronny, I’m gonna miss you and your poetry. But I’m with you, my friend. I think I’m going to bow out too.

    Thanks to all, I had some great fun. I’m not sure how much more time I’ll have to donate to this poetry page, I had a couple weeks off work (yes, in February – don’t ask) and now it’s back to work I go.

    Needless to say, money don’t usually grow on trees (unless, of course, it’s related to the FF variety), so I’ll have to earn me some if I’m going to continue my BOTG this year. I might still post, but time will be limited, so please don’t take offense if I don’t respond right away.

    Best of luck to all who go searching! And by all means, be safe!

    • Oh no!! Not you too Quency…. I feel like a boxer in the ring that just took a double punch…. first RonnyLee and now you…. 🙁 ….. I may stagger around a little, but I refuse to fall !! …lol
      Go and earn your $’s for your BOTG my friend… I promise I’ll be here when your ready to jump back in the ring…lol
      It’s been fun with you and RonnyLee, I’ve enjoyed every word….be safe…. until next time… see ya my friend….

      • Focused, don’t worry my friend. I’ll still keep my eyes open to your incredible skills and maybe pop in from time to time.
        I’m not sure if you’ve ever disclosed your age, but no matter what that age is, I’ve seen how you’ve run circles around all of us. And yes, I’ve looked over your works from the past several years. So in my opinion, the title goes to you. Enjoy!

  48. Going to miss your penning, RonnyLee and Quency. Hope you don’t stay away too long from the Poetry Page. Good luck in your search.

  49. Forgot to mention and give credit where credit is due.

    I know for a fact that Mr. Fenn could run circles around us all. His incredible journey has given my wife and I a new look at life, along with an adventure we might otherwise never had seen. Regardless of who finds the treasure, we sincerely owe him for that!


  50. Being my last day off work before I head back, I thought I would dedicate it to writing one more poem in honor of the man who established the reason why we’re all here.

    “Ode to Forrest”
    by Quency

    If ever there was a person, to walk the face of this earth,
    Who loved the beauty of nature, the breadth of humanity’s hearth…

    Would we ever notice his kindness, or seek the depths he’s staked?
    Or would we seek his fortune, merely play his clever game?

    Will we thank him for his effort, his greatness truly know?
    Or miss his greater purpose, while running to and fro.

    Could we find his place of friendship, embrace it in our world?
    Or dispel any cause for honor, while shrapnel still is hurled.

    Would we seek his inner thoughts, and store them in our bank?
    Or would that vault be empty, when grasping the things we lack?

    Could we follow close his footsteps, on this broad but narrow ledge,
    And position them towards tomorrow, to gain a worthy edge?

    Will we recognize his tears, his voice most boldly heard?
    Or continue in our bloodshed, crying tearful words!

    Will we inherit his words of wisdom, envision a peaceful land?
    Or will we just dismiss them, and forget about this man?

    Though initials etch the line he’s drawn, and his name is carved in stone,
    Could we ever afford a thousand years, before someone hears his ode?

    • Double “WOW” from me Quency !! What a way to finish your last day off work… you nailed it on the head my friend, your words are very pleasing to read and they also reveal your ginormous heart!! I’m sure Forrest would be proud of your Ode poem…
      Thank you for sharing this and thank you for sharing your notepad with us and allowing us to scribble among it also….
      Go earn some $’s and keep your pen at the ready my friend…… until next time… see ya

      • Thank you pdenver, Brian u, and Focused.

        I’m not sure how many thanks Forrest receives each and every day, but I consider it a pleasure to personally thank and honor him for what he has accomplished. The adventures I’ve experienced through his adventure are been beyond words!

    • Quency,

      Another smile on my face. Forrest’s “Ode to Peggy Jean”, is so powerful and deep, for myself anyway.

      It was nice to see a salute to the man himself. Well done.


  51. On the memory table at a recent memorial service was a plaque that reminded me of Forrest.


    Outside the morning dew transforms it very state
    As a serious soul is sleeping late.
    Not for naught is the sunrise missed
    Only to allow wet to change to mist.

    What is the right thing to do?
    ponders a mindful few.
    Among these is one who will enlist
    His several talents to create a rule list.

    Not enough is what, but also when
    Being right on time within his ken.
    See matters wrong and make them straight
    Seize the moment don’t hesitate.

    The reason matters, it must be right
    Out from darkness, now into light.
    A book is made not overdue
    Dues been paid, and kindness one can’t overdo.

    And we beg his indulgence, so our turn we won’t miss
    When we hear him good, on duty he was not remiss.
    So not with drink should we toast
    We honor him most when we support our own post.

  52. “Fireflies and Wishes”

    In the darkness of the night,
    the heavens fall from the sky.
    Twinkling like the stars,
    fireflies sparkle so bright.

    Among the stars she dashes,
    ready to catch a wish.
    Cupped inside her hands she peeks,
    and sees the little flashes.

    Closing eyes, a wish is made.
    The firefly is freed to wander.
    With a smile, she waves goodbye,
    within the heavens she has played.

    Dream as dreamers do.
    Wish with all your might.
    Catch a handful of fireflies,
    and peek inside to see the view.

    Thank you for the inspiration, curious hobbit.

    • Very good penning pdenver!!! I am so ready for the fireflies and warmer temps of summer…… I could imagine the flickering diamonds of the night my friend… thank you for such a warm painting in your words… have a great day … until next time… see ya

      • Enjoyed the delightful moment pdenver,
        thx for the reminder that
        not all that glitters is gold
        ,,, it may be even more precious.

      • I’m glad you like the painting, Focused. I’m ready for the warmer weather, too. Due for 2-4″ of heavy snow beginning tonight into tomorrow and more on Tuesday. I know we could use the moisture, and the next two months are our heaviest, but it sure would be nice to not to see white all the time. Enjoying the 60 degree weather today. 🙂

        • I feel for ya pdenver….. temps here was good today and yes I enjoyed it… I took my motorcycle for a spin, only to realize, a little warmer wouldn’t hurt…lol stay warm……
          Have a great night my friend… see ya

    • That is awesome PDenver!!! I love love love the line
      “Dream as dreamers do.
      Wish with all your might.”

      That little Hobbit sure has a way of pushing our buttons doesn’t he 🙂 🙂 🙂

      Great Job!

      • Hello Spallies. I’m so happy to hear you love the lines. Thank you for your kindness. I concur, our little hobbit can push buttons. 🙂

    • Had to sneak a peek @ the poetry page now that I got my Weekend Freedom. Dynamic poem pdenver…!! I didn’t know you had such artistic penful strokes! Makes me want to take a few more days off work to write some more myself!

    • PDenver – a bit late on commenting.
      I was in exile for a while.
      This poem really lit me up.
      Such inspiration and such memories of those days
      when we thought we were forever young.

  53. “ Near The Waters “

    A snowflake drifts in silence, upon the winter air,

    It’s journey quite and peaceful, no worries to somewhere.

    High above the mountain peaks, it drifts in black of night,

    Gently falling, often changing, its course of where to lite.

    Life’s much like a snowflake, that drifts in mountains high,

    It has its ups and downs, though someday it will die.

    It’s journey will be over, it’s life will rest below,

    Upon a padded blanket, of pure white mountain snow.

    Our journey to the blanket, our life’s like drifting snow,

    Our winds will someday fade, our time will melt and go.

    So live your life in happiness, embrace your winter winds,

    Share the peace within you, before your snowflake ends.

    The warmer days will soften, your mountain snows abound,

    Like it you’ll be a River, and flow to lower ground.

    Though once a flying wonder, a silent mountain snow,

    Now way down in the valley, it’s lovely river flows.

    Along the rushing river, lush grass and flowers grow,

    Beauty in abundance, because of mountain snows.

    For you a place of beauty, as equal does wait,

    The beauty near the waters, beyond our heavens gate……

    By: Focused

      • DTakaRS,
        Your welcome, I’m glad my words could make your day a little better. Make the best of it today and enjoy the little things… thank you for your kind comment too….. until next time… see ya DTakaRS….

    • Hopefully this post makes it to you Focused,
      I’m in time-out right now. LOL
      Love this one – kinda really hits home for me.
      Sometimes, I really feel like that drifting snowflake.

      • It made it….I’m glad you liked it wwwamericana…. at one time or another, we all feel like that drifting snowflake my friend… time-out? That’s a place I know all to well…lol have a great night… until next time… see ya

    • Past, present, or future, the thrill of that snowflake, along with those awe inspiring moments sometimes impossible to see, stirs a vision of a personal journey we all should seek to embrace. If we could only imagine… Thank you so much, Focused!

        • Every royal court should have a Squire.
          I love their music from this era too.

          When you note “Roundabout” it sits
          well with the theme of going full circle and seeing the place for the first time.

          And when Focused speaks of “ups and downs”
          That sounds like a reference to being phased.
          The vapor, snow, water flower juice.

          Put those together and maybe
          it’s a Carousel with bananas
          where the brass ring should be.
          At least we’ll Never Walk Alone.

          Well I am a bit phased too I admit
          And though the ride is hardly easy
          The admission was free
          And someone has that Golden Ticket.

  54. There once was a man named Forrest Fenn
    He hid a Treasure and then picked up a pen
    Try to find it he said and you’ll be his friend
    All the wolves went running from their den

    Forget what you know this is a whole new game
    If you never find it you got nobody else to blame
    You can pray for help the playing field’s the same
    From Santa Fe on upward is where they all came

    Find the Brown home and avoid the frown
    Don’t let those people in town call you clown
    That bear and lion will run you right on down
    If you do find it surely you’ll wear the crown

    Take all the ones you love camping and fishing
    Stand in that stream with whatever your wishing
    Imagine finding that gold and feeling that blessing
    Forrest did say there’s one thing we’re all missing

    Triumph will find you where ever you may go
    Take a walk in that creek feel the waters flow
    Proudly listen to the mountains high and low
    Meadowing flowers in springtime finely grow

    Take someone’s hand and walk into that forest
    Memories across that countryside floored us
    Into the wilderness you’ll find an inner chorus
    One thing’s for sure Forrest never bored us! 🙂

    Pauley T

  55. And Joy the Dividends

    When working puts me out of sorts
    I day-dream about outdoor sports
    Though few bulbs now sport a filament
    When stuck indoors I’m out of my element.

    Sunlight filtered, sweet nature will soften
    Reflections on water enchant me often
    Glare reduction a welcome device
    I’ll keep the good, but shun bad advice.

    Youth can’t be wasted on the young
    Any more than a ladder should have one rung
    Steps taken to rise from the start
    A view appreciated, take stock, stay young at heart.

  56. “ Ancient Skies “

    Along a flowing river,

    Alone in midnights shiver,

    He kneeled and wept.

    Feared what the darkness brings,

    The healing chants did sing?

    His wife fought as she slept.

    Sounds of a newborn cry,

    Filled the chilly sky,

    Sounds of little grace.

    His prayers sent to above,

    To save his only love,

    Or take her place.

    His eyes filled with despair,

    His heart overflowed with care,

    Tears they fall.

    Then chants they quickly cease,

    Now worried doom or peace,

    An Elder calls.

    Then through the tipi door,

    There on the padded floor,

    She smiles at him.

    Upon their mothers chest,

    His newborn daughters rests,

    Yes, both of them.

    Speechless in his stance,

    Eyes fixed in a trance,

    Overflowed with love.

    His answered prayer was sent,

    There to his family’s tent,

    From the chilly skies above…….

    By: Focused

  57. For your amusement: A poem named Lead Searcher.

    Lead Searcher

    As I went alone in there
    To find the chest of gold.
    I came within 200 feet
    And saw the blaze below.

    Looked quickly down
    Beneath the blaze.
    And found the “Why” (Y)
    That he must go.

    The answers now I know
    He had a reason to bestow.
    To the finder goes the win
    You’ll be surprised what’s within.

    I didn’t need to take the chest
    Because I have millions at best.
    To solve the poem was my quest
    It certainly was a marvelous test.

    Gold and jewels within so bright
    And at the bottom a great delight.
    Cannot tell, twill spoil the surprise
    Left it there for others to surmise.

    Not in Wyoming, Montana
    Or National Park.
    It’s closer to his home
    Colorado, New Mexico you must embark.

    It is straightforward I must admit
    So don’t give up or quit.
    It’s still there just look in the right space
    And it will end the great Fenn race.

    “The Trill Of The Chase.”

  58. This ones for you ManOwar… your “Lead Searcher” gave me the inspiration to write this one… thanks my friend… until next time… see ya….

    “ Title To Your Gold “

    I see you’ve went alone so bold,

    I too have done the same.

    Wishing I wasn’t quite so old,

    To play this crazy game.

    The canyon it looks mighty deep,

    And the waters hot as hell,

    It’s all to far to walk for me,

    My knees they slowly swell.

    What the heck’s, a home of Brown?

    I’m old but brave you see.

    I hope the ends, just nigh and down,

    It’s taking a toll on me.

    I need no paddle, my creeks to high,

    But I’d use it as a crutch,

    My heavy loads, my aching thighs,

    I’ve never hurt so much.

    Wise you say? I’m worried now,

    My smarts lost in this haze,

    I’ve gotta find your blaze somehow,

    I’ve had my better days.

    While looking quickly down below,

    I see where my quest will cease,

    That’s much farther, than I can go,

    To rest my throbbing knees.

    Regain my breath, and off again,

    No tarry scant for me,

    Not much farther, this game I’ll win,

    Then poof, I’m gone in peace.

    Why is it, that I must go?

    It’s beginning to be a chore.

    I think I’ll wait to grab your trove,

    My body’s crazy sore.

    I guess I’ve done it, tired and weak,

    So hear me Mr. Fenn,

    Listen now and hear me speak,

    I think I’m giving in.

    Will someone send a chopper in,

    I’ll resume, when hell is cold,

    My effort it can wait till then,

    For the title to your gold……

    By: Focused

    • I enjoyed your poem, Focused. I can sympathize with the body challenges and wondered if I could make it from here to there in a search. I hope you haven’t given up.

      • I’m happy that you enjoyed it pdenver…. oh and by the way, “given up” is not even in my vocabulary…lol when I start something I finish it or die trying, in this chase it might be the latter…lol.. Although I do love the challenges, both physically and mentally….
        Have a great night my friend…. see ya

    • Hi Focused,
      Thank You, Friend.

      That poem was really swell
      I hope your knees will hold-up
      To carry you to the well.

      Glad you count me as a friend.

      • Your welcome ManOwar… my knees are well, in the poem above it’s just my imagination in overdrive…lol. Thank you for the inspiration and yes, although we’ve never met I still consider you a “Friend”…. I think with you as a friend, I can now say that I have a total of 4…lol
        Have a great night…. until next time… see ya

  59. Day of Treasures

    Yesterday I watched the chase from afar
    Today I’m running all around in my car
    Tomorrow I hope to be the treasure czar

    Yesterday I thought I’d give into the pain
    Today I’m searching all the dusty terrain
    Tomorrow I’ll see how smart is my brain

    Yesterday we’ll see this all to the end
    Today we’ll search that creek at the bend
    Tomorrow we’ll call each other my friend

    Yesterday you didn’t even know me
    Today you’re listening to my very plea
    Tomorrow we’ll laugh at all the newbie

    Yesterday took the time from my grief
    Today I’m standing steadfast to belief
    Tomorrow I’ll land us upon that reef

    Yesterday I watched the chase from afar
    Today I’m running all around in my car
    Tomorrow I’ll see who my true friends are.

    Pauley T

    • Good job PauleyT…..

      Yesterday is history,
      Today is history in the making
      Tomorrow is hope for a better history.

      Sorry, I read your words and my mind took off…lol keep up your penning PauleyT… I like it..
      Have a great day…thanks… until next time.. see ya

  60. I don’t usually do poetry, but thought I would try!

    Selfless Searcher

    Fill my pocket with golden coins for the short time I live?
    Or forever add my name to history for what I too can give?

    Forrests life was meant for purpose from the day his mom gave birth.
    This Chase deserves the perfect end for the gift he brought this earth.

    The Gods did point my compass for a destiny already set.
    Saluting Major Forrest Fenn is a pleasure I wont forget.

    One has to look upon this calling as a gift from high above.
    A cumulative spirit gathering, bestowed on all by love.

    Lessons learned from a wonderful man, shaped my heart and mind.
    So I’ll hand the chest to those who need it, knowing God gave it me to find.

    • Mr. Patience,
      Looks like you’ve been holding out on us… lol thank you for taking that first step here on the poetry page.. I hope you take many more my friend… I enjoyed reading your words…. have a great night… until next time… see ya

  61. Thank you pdenver & Focused. It took me less than 15 mins, so excuse the bad punctuation etc. I would have polished it a little, given more time. I may return!

  62. Wrote this years ago before my intro to TTOTC. Since we are working with words, thougt I would share it since it is entitled “Words”…


    Words are funny,
    Words are mean,
    Words are dirty and words are clean.

    Words of passion,
    Words of pain.
    Some words we’ll wish to never hear again.

    Words of hate.
    Words of sorrow.
    What’s the buzzword for tomorrow?

    Words that flow,
    Words that break,
    We’ve all heard words that are so hard to take.

    Words that cripple,
    Words that play,
    Sometimes words are hard to say.

    Words that blend,
    Words that crash.
    Words that come out hollow or brash.

    Words that cut,
    Words that heal,
    Words that express how little we feel.

    Words that rhyme,
    Words that dont,
    Words you want to say but won’t!

    Words on skin,
    Words in sand,
    Funny how hard some words can land.

    “Words are like weapons”,
    “Strokes the word”,
    Plenty of lyrics we’ve felt instead of heard.

    Words that give flight,
    Words that cut low,
    Silent words that we’ll never know.

    Words that meander,
    Words with a point,
    Slippery words that fail to anoint.

    Words meant for Lovers,
    Words created by Nerds,
    Sometimes you just can’t find the right words.

    Words that tickle,
    Words that prick,
    Funny how some words never do stick.

    Words that cajole,
    Words that soil,
    Are they really words when our blood is a-boil?

    Words that glow,
    Words that are dark,
    Glossy words that really are simply stark.

    Words that tempt,
    Words that are late,
    Words that get twisted up by Fate.

    Words that wiggle,
    Words that crawl,
    Cryptic last words some people scrawl.

    I’ve listened.
    You’ve read.
    Now all my words are dead…

  63. Hours

    From Dusk to Dawn the park will close
    I guess rangers seek repose.
    But wonder for who that sign pertains
    Just those from routes man maintains?

    Not for the first and current residents
    Would be a rule too cruel in this land of precedents.
    Many beneath the trees, below the sky
    On pine needle beds wish to lie.

    And Birds that prey and those that nest
    Also need a place to rest.
    What species could we endanger
    Will we next arrest the Great Arranger?

    • That’s good 4rest4fend… heck, you guys were on a roll today…. I like reading them as much as writing them… keep it up my friend…. have a great night…. now I’m gonna scroll down and catch the rest of bowmarc’s words….lol. See ya

  64. Words, too…

    Words can sparkle.
    Words can cling.
    Words can sooth as well as sting.

    Words that bind.
    Words that crack.
    Oft wished words you can’t take back.

    Words so shallow.
    Words so deep.
    Expensive words that sound so cheap.

    Words have power.
    Words can kill.
    Too few words make time stand still.

    Words that stray.
    Words with style.
    Hurried words that take a long while.

    Words that leap.
    Words that run.
    Rhyming words that come undone.

    Words that mend.
    Words that maim.
    Some words are too wild to tame.

    Words from the Heart.
    Words from the Soul.
    Words that fail to meet their goal.

    Words that shrill.
    Words that beat.
    Cold, cold words that can’t take the heat.

    Words that slant.
    Words that slope.
    Courageous words that have lost all hope.

    Words that wear.
    Words that bore.
    Victorious words that lose the war.

    Words so compassionate.
    Words so bleak.
    Strong, strong words that leave you weak.

    Words of choice.
    Words of chance.
    Sybaritic words without romance.

    Words with aim.
    Words that clown.
    Floated words that make you drown.

    Words that freeze.
    Words all afire.
    Truthful words that make you a liar.

    Words off kilter.
    Words on cue.
    Colorful words that have lost their hue.

    Words that curse.
    Words that confess.
    Fancy words you can’t undress.

    Words that last.
    Words that fade.
    Tested words we fail to grade.

    Words that echo.
    Words that fence.
    Opinionated words that make no sense.

    Words of false promise.
    Words of true grit.
    Venomous words so perfectly spit.

    Words aplenty.
    Words too few.
    Classic words that we eschew.

    Words as payment.
    Words with a fee.
    Costly words ill-spent for free.

    I’ve heard…
    So have you…
    Now all these words are dead too…

  65. Words End

    Words are naughty.
    Words are nice.
    Sweet little words that rend and slice.

    Words are wasted.
    Words are saved.
    Intelligent words that sound depraved.

    Words we exhale.
    Words we blink.
    Perfumed words that simply stink.

    Words to savor.
    Words of excuse.
    Restraining words that we cut loose.

    Words that stall.
    Words that trend.
    Loving words we don’t care to send.

    Words on file.
    Words that stray.
    Remembered words we forget to say.

    Words we throw.
    Words we keep.
    Censored words we can’t unbleep.

    Words we ignore.
    Words we amend.
    Elastic words that refuse to bend.

    Words that ask.
    Words that cost.
    Enduring words irretrievably lost.

    Words that conform.
    Words that freestyle.
    Angelic words that bewitch and beguile.

    Words that frost.
    Words that smolder.
    Drunken words that come out sober.

    Words can vex.
    Words can jar.
    Aesthetic words can leave a scar.

    Words that define.
    Words that imply.
    Uncertain words on which we rely.

    Words of neon.
    Words of white.
    Fiery words we refuse to ignite.

    Words that pose.
    Words that sway.
    Devilish words we use to pray.

    Words we crumple.
    Words we slake.
    Forbidden words that make us quake.

    Words we shuffle.
    Words that flow.
    Heavy words we can’t let go.

    Words that baffle.
    Words that chide.
    Illusionary words we just can’t hide.

    Words that we cherish.
    Words we let slip.
    Pasted words that have no grip.

    Words we display.
    Words we sheath.
    Cheeky words that grit your teeth.

    I listen…I Love.
    You earnestly pretend.
    And so my dead words dead end…

    • Enjoyed you trilogy very much.
      Thought-provoking and fun researching too.

      But the words very lively presentation
      seems stronger than the surprising d’termination
      you tri-gale.

    • Bowmarc,
      I read all three word poems, you pit a lot of thinking in them. You pretty much covered them all…. except one…

      Words that are Focused,
      Words that are ample,
      Words of clear vision and written so simple.

      Just messing with ya…. great penning my friend… have a great night… until next time… see ya

      • @Focused – Funny that you should bring that up. Check below for another Words Poem—-how many Chase related thoughts do you see?

        • Bowmarc,
          Heck, I’ve never been to good at tests, but after reading your latest words poem I came up with 9 … 8 plus 1 aberration….. have a great day my friend….. see ya

          • The only limits to the correct answer, besides the finite number of words that comprise the poem (which I haven’t counted), are your own imagination and interpretation—this is poetry after all! 🙂

          • Well then Bowmarc, I chose 9 out of 21 stanzas (thoughts) if my math is correct, then my imagination scored 42.8 % out of a possible 100%…. humm.. I told you I wasn’t very good at tests…lol
            I think I need to go and download an imagination building app… lol
            If imagination is more important than knowledge, I think I’m riding in the back of the bus…lol
            Thanks for the smile my friend…. until next time.. see ya

  66. Wowwy, Wowwy… look at all I missed! Leave this sight for a few days and its got me coming back for more.
    Never seen so much poetry and so many words. Could it really be that words can, either, afflict us, or perfect us?
    Anyways, all of your poems have inspired some weekend thoughts of my own, so I could hardly hold back from sharing!

    “The Riddle of Thought”
    by Quency

    Riddle me this.
    What makes “make”-believe?
    Tell me how…
    How does a creek creak?

    Question me where…
    Where do fire flies fly?
    Then pose the question,
    “Where exactly am I?”

    Answer me this.
    Can you imagine to…?
    Then reveal how…
    too for is four two.

    And if we really think
    we know how to tie a not?
    Then go ahead and tell us how…
    And if so, then why knot?

    If all this seems quite silly,
    then I might respond back to you…
    “Keep your thinking simple,
    fractioned of the bigger clues”…

    But don’t ever ask me…
    “How in learning, will we ever no?”
    When we simply refuse to imagine,
    or continue to say “Heck, Know!”

    • Very good penning Quency !! I liked your word play… I done a poem about 4-5 years ago similar with words.. it was fun to write…. next time you might try staying away just one day, a lot less catching up that way… lol
      Have a great night… good to see ya pop in…. see ya

      • Succinctness have just a few,.
        Maybe only
        one or two.
        Some do babble
        like a brook,
        you’d think they
        wish to write a
        Some plot by
        the moon
        some plot till
        some even plot
        a trip
        in the midst of
        Winter’s icy grip.
        The wisest know
        it is way too soon,
        they won’t
        Sally forth till
        darned near June…

  67. I went to a ceremony in Gibraltar in December and this was written in the brochure. Reminds me of the Chase!

    Our lives are entwined, I want you to see,
    together agreed lets set our hearts free.
    We travel a path which appears like two roads,
    Yet united we carry the same cardinal lodes.
    When time gives way I try bear the view,
    old news of bond and you like it for new.
    Lets not confuse dreams earned by past,
    and travel the future, I know it will last!


  68. Words Anew

    Words we fluff.
    Words we spike.
    Friendly words we still don’t like.

    Words in silence.
    Words on display.
    Scripted words we just can’t say.

    Words we despise.
    Words we favor.
    Well-cooked words that have no flavor.

    Words as hints.
    Words as clues.
    Watered down words that still light our fuse.

    Words we wind.
    Words we unroll.
    Temperate words that lose all control.

    Words we destroy.
    Words we create.
    Sturdy words that don’t hold their weight.

    Words that hang.
    Words of retort.
    Lengthy words that still fall short.

    Words that schmooze.
    Words that rasp.
    Simple words we fail to grasp.

    Words in close.
    Words at bay.
    Forgiving words that make us pay.

    Words we divide.
    Words we gather.
    Bubbly words that have no lather.

    Words that clean.
    Words that splatter.
    Important words that don’t seem to matter.

    Words that release.
    Words that brake.
    Brittle words words we still overbake.

    Words that glue.
    Words that blast.
    Well crafted words that still don’t last.

    Words that lift.
    Words that weigh.
    Guiding words that lead us astray.

    Words that sleep.
    Words that wake.
    Genuine words made by mistake.

    Words with humor.
    Words with wit.
    Tailored words that still don’t fit.

    Words that inform.
    Words that snitch.
    Dulcet words that make us itch.

    Words we plow.
    Words we plot.
    Nurturing words we leave to rot.

    Words that chime.
    Words that ring.
    Spicy words that have no zing.

    Words unwritten.
    Words in quotes.
    Choking words that clear our throats.

    Words long gone.
    Words in stock.
    Grounded words that still have shock.

    Words of error.
    Words of correction.
    Mirrored words that provide no reflection.

    Words that hunger.
    Words that sate.
    Timely words that are still too late.

    Words that align.
    Words that curve.
    Tasteless words we still serve.

    Words we shoot.
    Words we sling.
    Melodic words that we can’t make sing.

    Words we favor.
    Words we mock.
    Keyed up words that won’t unlock.

    Words that enlighten.
    Words that stump.
    Unclogged words that leave a lump.

    Words tarry.
    Words corrupt.
    Halting words that don’t interrupt.

    Words that gush.
    Words that shy.
    Watery words that leave us dry.

    Words that question.
    Words we doubt.
    Deafening words we silently shout.

    Words that drop.
    Words that climb.
    Those mirrored words still have no mime.

    I shared.
    So did you.
    Now my words are born anew….

  69. It’s nine o’clues on a Saturday
    The regular crowd shuffles meek
    There’s an old man fishing next to me
    Makin’ love to my poem and creek

    He says, “Son, can you tell it from memory
    I’m no longer sure how it goes
    But it’s mad and it’s sweet and I knew it complete
    When I wore a lead searcher’s clothes”

    La la la, di da da
    La la, di da da da dum

    “Give us a clue, you’re the treasure man
    Sing us a hint tonight
    Well, we’re all in the mood for a mystery
    And you’ve got us thrillin’, alright”

    Now Frog, by the bear, is a friend of mine
    He counts me my links for free
    And he’s quick with a croak from the stump of an oak
    But there’s someplace that he’d rather be
    He says, “F, I believe this is killing me”
    As a fly ran away from its face
    “Well I’m sure that I could be – croak – dancing with the stars
    If I could get out of this blaze”

    Oh, la la la, di da da
    La la, di da da da dum

    PaulPaul is a searcher, from the UK,
    Who never put boots on the ground
    And he’s talkin’ with Davio, who’s still sounding sabio
    With the treasure remaining unfound
    And the reckless are playing chaseopoly!
    As “the businessmen” slowly dip toes
    Yes, they’re sharing a kink they call cluelessness
    But it’s better than chasin’ alone

    “Give us a clue, you’re the treasured man
    Sing us a hint tonight
    Or we’ll meet at The Dude for a vis-à-vis
    Cuz you got us dipping alright”

    It’s a pretty good crowd for a Saturday
    And “the manager” gives me a smile
    ‘Cause he knows that it’s me they’ve been comin’ to see
    To forget about life for a while
    And the waterfall sounds like one in Vietnam
    And my camping tent smells like a deer (?)
    And they stare from the bank and put clomps near my jars
    And say, “Man, what are you doin’ here?”

    Oh, la la la, di da da
    La la, di da da da dum

    “Give us a clue you’re the treasure-man
    Sing us a hint tonight
    For we’re all in the brood of a memory
    And you got us feeling alright” ,

  70. Silly Joel, your poem got me laughing so hard I have people staring at me!
    I don’t have much time, but after claiming a few moments of composure, I thought I’d fire a couple verses back. Please forgive me Forrest and Billy.

    Got to call on a new friend so we could be real close
    Native taught, the American way.
    Made the hop, sold the house, bought one closer to the west coast
    Now I give him the standup routine in Santa Fe

    I don’t need you to worry for me ’cause I’m completely right
    I don’t want you to tell me to just go back home
    I don’t care what you say, I’m gonna invade your life
    Go ahead with your own life, but you’re not alone

    • You guys are great!!! LOL

      Here’s my favorite Billy song… I only had to change one line in the chorus…

      While in these days of quiet desperation
      As I wander through the world in which I live
      I search everywhere for some new inspiration
      But it’s more than cold reality can give
      If I need a cause for celebration
      Or a comfort I can use to ease my mind
      I rely on my imagination
      And I dream of an imaginary time

      I know that everybody has a dream
      Everybody has a dream
      And this is my dream, my own
      Just to be at home
      of Brown…with a clue

      If I believe in all the words I’m saying
      And if a word from you can bring a better day
      Then all I have are these games that I’ve been playing
      To keep my hope from crumbling away
      So let me lie and let me go on sleeping
      And I will lose myself in palaces of sand
      And all the fantasies that I have been keeping
      Will make the empty hours easier to stand

      I know that everybody has a dream
      Everybody has a dream
      And this is my dream, my own
      Just to be at home
      of Brown…with a clue

  71. “ The Man In The Mirror “

    I looked at a man in the mirror.

    And much to my mirrored surprise.

    I leaned into him, and got nearer,

    I saw a sad look in his eyes.

    His brows were silver and aging,

    His eyes had feet of a crow.

    Who is this man that I’m seeing?

    He looks so withered and old.

    I ask my new friend in the mirror,

    In return, does he see the same?

    Come on, lean in, get closer,

    Is time the culprit to blame?

    In silence, the man in the mirror,

    Stared with that desperate same gaze,

    To me his message was clearer,

    Than the wrinkles upon his sad face.

    I turn my back, to my new friend,

    Goodbyes are so hard to say,

    I turn at him, with a soft grin,

    Then sadly, I just walk away……

    By: Focused

    • I really like your poem, Focused. A little bittersweet. The past couple days I was thinking about that particular story about Mr. Fenn standing in front of the mirror.

      • I’m glad you liked it pdenver… yeah I think about that story a lot…. sometimes life is bittersweet, just thought I’d Pen about it… see ya my friend

      • Thanks Spallies, the mirror catches up with all of us at sometime my friend…. the beauty is in how you accept it….
        have a great evening Spallies… until next time… see ya

  72. Focused, thank you for your heartfelt words my friend. It’s those words of ageless wisdom that create the beautiful and spirited poem of a youthful life.

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