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Mr Glesgajohn Poem
On the peaks of Mount Logan, I mushed our tobogan
Heading for Dawson and spring
As I camped in the Yukon,the memories of Tuscon
Were bright unforgetable things
The Klondyke had gold, but im fast growing old
And the prospecting fields have gone dead
So I traded these shallows, of cut throats and gallows
For soft feathered pillows, and soft feathered beds.
Its been more than a decade since Dougie and I made
A bargain while toiling for gold
We both had the notion, the wild Artic Ocean
Held more than the frost and the cold
In the short Yukon Basin, we spent nights and days in
The search for a strike and a dream
He was never a quitter, but in tempratures bitter
He died for the glitter, he died for the gleam.
I knelt down beside him, just as his God cried him
His pulse hardly beating at all
He whipspered and begged, that his bones would be laid
Far away from the frost and the cold
As he passed me his poke, his pump stumbled and broke
And I knew he'd been begging for trust
So the promise I made HIM, I never betrayed him
I carried and laid him, in peace, in the dust.
In DAWSON I gave you a home
A green plot of land, with your name on a stone
Although its not much, it's the end of the search
The promise I made you, a debt I repaid you
I carried and laid you,Through blizzards and storms
To DAWSON and gave you a home.
Copyright © Mr Glesgajohn | Year Posted 2020
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