Beyond Where the Pavement Ends

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Beyond where the pavement ends.

That's where this little poem begins.

Far from the insane pace of city life.

Away from its burdens and strife.


Here your schedules are sun and moon;

Spring, summer, fall, and winter comes too soon.

Don't let me kid you - life here can be rough.

And each year's hardships seem to get more tough.


Costs are up - prices are down.

All controlled by some folks in town.

Frustrations sometimes seem to be so cruel.

But, give up? - I'd have to be a fool.


For, life here is good - 'neath the clear blue sky.

This is truly the land, where the hawks and eagles fly.

Long, spacious valleys, the Ruby Mountains' craggy peaks.

Where May's melting snow, forms crystal clear creeks.


Where hidden waterfalls and secret passes begin.

And hot springs belch out steam from deep within.

Where sagebrush and aspen trees stand side by each.

And the clouds on the horizon seem just beyond reach.


At night, the twinkling stars are clear and bright.

A fall'n star, in the evening sky, is a memorable sight.

The evening breezes are as gentle as a lover's kiss.

It just doesn't get more majestic than this.


Here packs of coyotes still howl at the moon.

And in the marshes, ducks and geese make their own tune.

Here the Painted Lady has a fine dinner to suit.

Indian Paint Brush, Lupine, Phlox, or Balsamroot.


Great horned owls and the quick-witted crow.

Starlings, killdeer, magpies, and those - I don't know.

Where mountain lions, deer and antelope can be found.

And yes, snakes, mice, squirrels and lizards abound.


Horses, cattle and sheep in fields of new spring grass.

And not to forget, 'Donkey-Land' does have an ass.

Fences of barb-wire and spindly wooden posts.

These are some of the thoughts that I hold close.


Here the houses are made of stone and brick.

The corrals and barns were built strong and thick.

Here the sweat of your brow has real meaning to you.

Family, true friends, honesty and beliefs run true.


Long, wash-boarded, dusty roads with unexpected ruts.

Where true cowboys roam the valley in pickup trucks.

Carrying horses in trailers and talking on cellular phones.

Rattling over cattle guards, made to jar your bones.


The three r's are still taught in our rural school.

Not to forget, there's also the Golden Rule.

Our kids also prepare - for the future they strive.

But they know that - here the old west is still alive.


For this is the land that the Cavalry knew.

and where the Pony Express rode the mail through.

Where Shoshone Indians can still be found.

Where we all agree that this is truly - sacred ground.

A Collection of Some of My Favorite Poems,   Volume 2, Written by Dan TurnerWhere stories live. Discover now