When thinking about those days of old,
Searching the land for that vein of gold.
Cutting through brush; digging up dirt,
Working so hard that your back did hurt.
Down by the water with pan in hand,
Putting in the oar bearing sand.
Swishing in water, a short half circle,
Removing the sand so handily,
Looking for a nugget the size of a Pea.
Your now on your way to the promised land.
Stay alert for their are thief's out there
That will rob or kill you for your share.
A sidearm is carried, to protect your life,
For your children are safe; home with your wife.
What a tale you will tell when you come home
From your adventure's where the Buffalo roam.