Last week was a tough one. I lost a wonderful friend who also happened to be my editor. My friend’s name was Jeanie Horn, and she loved Westerns. She was a strong woman who said exactly what she thought and never sugar-coated anything. That’s what I loved about her. I never saw her without a cowboy hat, and she could happily talk about the Western genre all day.
Many of my friends are grieving her loss, as I am. I wanted to dedicate this post to her, but I didn’t want to use a traditional poem of loss and mourning. When I came across this poem, I knew it was perfect. In honor of Jeanie, I’m sharing this beautiful poem by Arthur Chapman today. I think she would have approved.
Rest in peace, my friend.
Out Where the West Begins by Arthur Chapman
Out where the handclasp’s a little stronger, Out where the smile dwells a little longer, That’s where the West begins; Out where the sun is a little brighter, Where the snows that fall are a trifle whiter, Where the bonds of home are a wee bit tighter, That’s where the West begins. Out where the skies are a trifle bluer, Out where the friendship’s a little truer, That’s where the West begins; Out where a fresher breeze is blowing, Where there’s laughter in every streamlet flowing, Where there’s more of reaping and less of sowing, That’s where the West begins. Out where the world is in the making, Where fewer hearts in despair are aching, That’s where the West begins. Where there’s more of singing and less of sighing, Where there’s more of giving and less of buying, Where a man makes a friend without half trying, That’s where the West begins.
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