The Poem

The Thrill of the Chase
by Forrest Fenn

As I have gone alone in there
And with my treasures bold,
I can keep my secret where,
And hint of riches new and old.

Begin it where warm waters halt
And take it in the canyon down,
Not far, but too far to walk.
Put in below the home of Brown.

From there it’s no place for the meek,
The end is ever drawing nigh;
There’ll be no paddle up your creek,
Just heavy loads and water high.

If you’ve been wise and found the blaze,
Look quickly down, your quest to cease.
But tarry scant with marvel gaze,
Just take the chest and go in peace.

So why is it that I must go
And leave my trove for all to seek?
The answers I already know,
I’ve done it tired, and now I’m weak.

So hear me all and listen good,
Your effort will be worth the cold.
If you are brave and in the wood
I give you title to the gold.

6 thoughts on “The Poem

  1. If anyone knows Forrest, tell him I have a 51 year old unknown film of JFK I’m sure he’d love to have (and everyone else would love to have for that matter) if we can talk about salvaging – not the treasure itself – but the box he put it in. As each day goes by, the prospect of its destruction becomes more and more eminent. I’m an old collector, and I’ve been a lyricist for most of my life – getting paid little or nothing. It’s just I hate to see people ruin truly beautiful works of art such as a 1905 Steinway piano someone just threw out at the thrift store here in Los Angeles. It was mine; I saw it first, but I gave it away to responsible people contingent upon the understanding they would see it preserved; and they did.

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