Food basket to the World.

photo courtesy of stock xchng © lonewolfsh’s/ Darryl Smith

Wagons, burdened with the weight of life,

narrow tracks across the vast plain;

yondering people, searching for home

in a land unseen to them.

A restless nation, pushing forth

toward the mountains mighty peak.

Families of these moving folk,

uncertain lives that they seek.

Unto these far blue mountains

to start a world anew,

the brave will come relentlessly

across waves of amber hue.

Onward, ever onward

the trail across the plains;

in sunlight, heat and winter snow

against the driving springtime rain.

2
Liked it
Comments (4)
  • Guy Hogan on Dec 7, 2010

    I can feel the spirit of the poineers, men and women, in this poem. Westward ho! Although, I always side with the Indians since it was their land. Don’t tell anyone I said that.

  • bigpapadan on Dec 7, 2010

    Thanks Guy, and I personally agree with you.

  • lxdollarsxl on Dec 7, 2010

    you can sign me up for a trip, sounds even though i know i cannot have been an idyllic journey.

  • bigpapadan on Dec 7, 2010

    My family missed the whole migration west thing, but, I have known descendants of pioneers and I would have loved to have been one.

Leave a Comment

Hi there!

Hello! Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!

Find the Spot

Loading