|
Cowboy Poetry and Western Verse
THE PROSPECTOR
Joel T. Bailey
Out in the western mountains
Once lived a lonely breed of man
Whose life was spent searching
With pick, shovel and pan
Living through the summers heat
And the winters freezing cold
Surviving the best they could
In their search for the yellow gold
Digging in the dirt and rocks
And panning the mountain streams
Hoping for that one big strike
So they could live their dreams
They worked from dawn to dust
With one constant thought in mind
Just one more hole or one more pan
And the bonanza they would find
But most would never find it
The land claimed them in the end
Their bones bleached by the sun
And scattered by the wind
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
