Sunday, July 24, 2022

Pioneer Poem

 


WHO ME A PIONEER? by Lin Floyd


I don’t like to go on long hikes

on hot dusty roads or drink

warm water out of dirty creeks. 

I couldn’t have been a pioneer!


Day after day, dodging dangers

along the trail just wanting to stop

to rest for awhile or have a break

from nasty storms along the way.


Did their children really sing as they 

walked and walked and walked? Didn’t 

they ever complain or want to go home?

They’d left their homes to seek Zion.


Few had shoes so they walked barefoot.

That’s not fun with stickers and snakes. 

Can you imagine? Annoying mosquitos,

dust and disease were daily challenges.


No, I ‘d never survived as a pioneer.

Eating meager food brought along like 

cornmeal mush cooked over a primitive 

campfire or living on rationed supplies.


But onward they went mile after mile.

Almost 1000 miles through desert, hills,

mountains, crossing rivers, watching 

for hostile Indians or stampeding buffalos.


Arriving in the Great Salt Lake valley,

before them a vast desert filled with nothing, 

no homes, gardens yet to be planted, 

crickets waiting to devour crops.


It wasn’t easy, but with great faith 

they followed their leader Brigham Young 

to escape angry mobs’ persecutions.

Oh I’m thankful for my blessed pioneers.