mytimetoshine
Bronze Member
- Jun 23, 2013
- 1,574
- 3,370
- Detector(s) used
- GRIZZLY GOLD TRAP - ANGUS MACKIRK EXPLORER- BLUE BOWL - GOLD CUBE, MINELAB PRO 25 PINPOINTER-
- Primary Interest:
- All Treasure Hunting
Prospector
Often I think ābout 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
āTomorrow, I strike it richā, heād say
Just to be skunked another day
And though at times heād have felt like crying
Heād find just enough to keep on trying
If he made a strike that was any good
Heād keep it quiet as long as he could
Once the news got out and the miners all came
Heād pack up his kit and sell off the claim.
āThereās richer diggings up Northā, heād hear
So heās grab the reigns and away way heād steer
And if he never found it, thatās okay
He pined not for wealth anyway
But for freedom, adventure and fresh mountain air
And longing to know whatās 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 countryās now crossed
The mines brought the people, the cities, factories
But earthās treasures are no longer found with such ease
And what if they didnāt 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 McDonaldās, not bacon and beans
Where miners were once admired and famed
They now are harassed, reviled, and shamed
Now money doesnāt come from shimmering stones
Itās 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
Iāll always be a prospector
Often I think ābout 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
āTomorrow, I strike it richā, heād say
Just to be skunked another day
And though at times heād have felt like crying
Heād find just enough to keep on trying
If he made a strike that was any good
Heād keep it quiet as long as he could
Once the news got out and the miners all came
Heād pack up his kit and sell off the claim.
āThereās richer diggings up Northā, heād hear
So heās grab the reigns and away way heād steer
And if he never found it, thatās okay
He pined not for wealth anyway
But for freedom, adventure and fresh mountain air
And longing to know whatās 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 countryās now crossed
The mines brought the people, the cities, factories
But earthās treasures are no longer found with such ease
And what if they didnāt 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 McDonaldās, not bacon and beans
Where miners were once admired and famed
They now are harassed, reviled, and shamed
Now money doesnāt come from shimmering stones
Itās 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
Iāll always be a prospector
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