Prospector

[mytimetoshine]

Prospector

Often I think ‘bout those who first came

In hopes of working land yet untamed

The earth was good, the grass was green

Cowboys, farmers, and loggers were keen

Still, rumors of riches and wealth untold

Brought others to seek their fortune, in gold

And treasure was found, yes, indeed

Just a hint at first, then they followed the lead

Big discoveries and bigger expectations

Gave need for more hands to perform excavation

Some companies employed miners galore

Ten, fifty, a hundred or more

Their work was oft dangerous, though the small wage they were paid

Although some could be sly and sneak some high-grade

The hire, he craved not glimmer of gold

Except for which to pay the debts by him owed

The prospector though, roamed alone

Calling the untracked mountains his home

Combing the streams and hills unsettled

In pursuit of gems and precious metal

“Tomorrow, I strike it rich”, he’d say

Just to be skunked another day

And though at times he’d have felt like crying

He’d find just enough to keep on trying

If he made a strike that was any good

He’d keep it quiet as long as he could

Once the news got out and the miners all came

He’d pack up his kit and sell off the claim.

“There’s richer diggings up North”, he’d hear

So he’s grab the reigns and away way he’d steer

And if he never found it, that’s okay

He pined not for wealth anyway

But for freedom, adventure and fresh mountain air

And longing to know what’s just over there

And as long as there was something to discover

He would be out there, prospecting forever

Now the camps are all gone, the mines mostly closed

All that is left are some cabins, some holes

Fortunes were made and fortunes were lost

By road and by rail, the country’s now crossed

The mines brought the people, the cities, factories

But earth’s treasures are no longer found with such ease

And what if they didn’t get it all?

I head for the hills to answer the call

To seek out my shiny yellow muse

I follow their footsteps, just not in their shoes

In place of a mule, I ride on machines

Eating granola and McDonald’s, not bacon and beans

Where miners were once admired and famed

They now are harassed, reviled, and shamed

Now money doesn’t come from shimmering stones

It’s mined in tall building with computers and phones

But some things of yore are still the same

The mountains, trees, and stars remain

As witnesses to the days long gone

They bid me from the lowlands come

And though I seek and never encounter

I’ll always be a prospector

 

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[Hard Prospector]

A lot of thought went into that.......well done, good luck and I hope you find your pile.