The Logan Turnpike

by Charles W. Cook

The turnpike was a treacherous road
   Through Union County land;
The horse-drawn wagon made its bid
   To test the skills of man.

Across the Blue Ridge mountain crest
   They rode toward Cleveland town;
Some trees were cut to drag behind,
   To slow the wagons down.

The mountains farmers hauled their crops
   To sell along the way;
They camped beside a gentle stream
   For rest at end of day.

About four days to Gainesville’s view,
   Where stores stocked vital goods;
A campsite was their dwelling place
   Beneath the shady woods.

They bartered with the merchants there,
   For sugar, salt and flour;
New shoes were bought for everyone
   Before the closing hour.

Strong rope and nails and lantern oil,
   New pots and pans for cooking;
The ladies found new hats and coats,
   To make them better looking.

Steel horshoes and woodworking tools,
   Some turpentine and wire;
Warm union suits and woolen socks,
   And matches for a fire.

The little folks got chocolate drops,
   And others shiny toys;
Young girls would find some sweet perfume,
   And hair oil for the boys.

The journey o’er the mountain ridge
   Was such an awesome chore;
The long and bumpy tiring ride,
   Could last a week or more.

The Logan Turnpike it was called,
   Where mountain breezes blow;
The pioneers endured their task,
   Where sparkling waters flow.

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~ by billboe on April 29, 2010.

One Response to “The Logan Turnpike”

  1. Very enjoyable poem and story within it….thanks.

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