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Posted by MFish

Another time,
In days gone by,
When I was young
And had to die,
For love of country.
Ask me why?

Gone from the roads
I used to tread,
Breathe no more
For now the dead,
No longer see,
No longer bed.

Remember those
Who came before,
They offered love
And even more,
But death still came,
Unto their door.

Your avatar
Loy • 03/10/2018 at 10:16AM • Like

Beautiful poetry MFish - thank you for sharing it with us...

There are some stories, quite old,
About going prospecting for gold.
I'm sure you have heard them before,
As they are now part of Western Lore.
Searching through forests and bare hillside;
Walking most always but an occasional ride.
Searching and searching in rocks that erode,
Looking for the very elusive, "Mother Lode."
Hearing these tales, while around a fire,
Trying to determine if true or a liar.
No one will tell you, where it is found.
Only one place, deep in the ground.

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