Claim Jumper Poem by Ted Sheridan
Claim Jumper
I am a simple prospector panning for a little gold in life
Even one shiny little nugget would do; that I might
attach my value to it as I am of so little worth.
I wake up in the morning with empty pockets;
my spirit damaged by my own misfiled claims.
The Mother Load I’ve always dreamed was there...
escaped.
My tools all worn, my pack mule dead,
I have only the dream left to mine with my aged hands
and a dug out hole of ore to bury me in….
when the Claim Jumper comes to cash me out…
2008 © T S
Anyone who lives in Virginia Beach is the envy of hundreds of millions
As an aging prospector...I certainly can identify with this poem. You have created an amazing write. Well done...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 5:09:21 PM # 1.0.0.1119
every one dies mike fannieson lefanto i thank you