Tuesday, November 22, 2011

A Rockhound's Lament

I know that there shall never be
An ignoramus just like me.
Who roams the hills both night and day
To pick up rocks that do not pay.
For there's one thing I've been told 
I pick the rock and leave the gold.

O'er deserts wild and mountains blue,
I pick up rocks of every hue.
A hundred pounds or more I'll pack.
With blistered feet and aching back,
And after all is said and done,
I cannot name a single one.

I pick up rocks where ere I go.
The reason why I do not know.
For rocks are found by fools like me,
Where God intended they should be. 

~author unknown

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