You don't have to go to another land
Though you're smitten by the hunters dream
For the Rocky mountains are alive with game
And there is fishing in every stream.
You can sing and yodel to your hears content
Where the elk and bull moose call
You can feast your eyes on God's handi-work
When he paints the tree leaves in the fall.
You might see a bear if your eyesight is keen
Or a bighorn sheep on a hill
If you are so inclined you may get a sip
of juice from a well hidden still.
There are lakes of many colours
Like the patch-work on Joseph's coat
Where canyons are deep and the mountain slopes steep
You may spot a big mountain goat
For a man to become a good hunter
He must keep his sights trained on his goals
Some men get a thing called buck fever
And shoot the air full of big holes.
Hot on the trail of a deer
You don't have to go to Switzerland
To hear a yodel loud and clear.
This is the land where the dinosaur roamed
Where now deer and antelope play
A land where a man can be himself
I think I am going to stay.
This speaks of the ecology of the West Today. I will be putting these kind of poems in the Centennial time capsule along with some of my pioneer history Stories that Western Producer published in their Western People Magazine... Tom Hoy