The Treasure State's Allure
When a man's eyes often
To the far horizon wander
His given name don't matter
His pals just call him Yonder.
I've got itchy feet that travel.
Seen purt' near ever' state.
Been to many foreign countries
Yet less and less of late.
I've admired fall colored forests
In them New England regions.
The architecture of our DC
Has impressed me with its legions.
Ah, those warm and genteel states
Down south of the Mason Dixon.
Just the place a man should go
When he needs a 'slow-down' fixin'.
Alaska's right spectacular
With all those eagle aeries.
I commend the tallgrass attraction
Of America's midwest prairies.
Texas is a fine proud place.
Utah's a grandeur all it's own.
I 'preciate our neighbor Idaho
Where our seed potatoes are sown.
Dakotas are right invitin' except
When the ground gets all too stiff.
Anyplace in Wyoming calls me,
Really don't make much diff.
I like Colorado just fine,
New Mexico 'n Arizona too.
But there's one state I must abide.
Nary another place will do.
It's not just the Glacier peaks
The coulees and the lakes.
Although they're easy on the eyes,
It's more than The Missouri Breaks.
The peaceful Shortgrass Prairie
Over east of the divide
Rolls gently on to heaven
Where this buckaroo wants to ride.
But this homeland love of mine
Has more charm than meets the eye.
In Montana you drink pure water
And breathe air outta The Big Sky.
We trust our neighbor's handshake
And leave our trucks unlocked.
We've still got choices ever' day
Cuz our freedoms ain't been blocked.
Montana's laced with a fragrance
Like no other place I've seen.
It's pines and lakes and peaks
And endless plains in-between.
Canola Fields scream yellow
In spring ‘cross the Flathead Valley.
We even have a mountain named
"Heaven’s Peak", pointin’ to my finale.
On top of all the eye candy
There's a quiet to which I'm partial.
You can 'bout touch it in the Yak
Or while packin' The Bob Marshall.
Where God's people live in peace
And dwell in homes secure.
With rest that's undisturbed
That's the Treasure State's allure.
Of course the stars are always
Bright in every night’s dark sky
But when seen beyond big city lights
In Montana they make me sigh.
Reckon I'll always hanker to roam.
I still yearn to see the other side.
But when in my Montana I'm home
And it's where I'll end my last ride.
© 2020*With a grateful nod to Isaiah 32:18 This poem was published in the February 2021 edition of