Pyrite veins wriggle today's spoils
no nuggets glimmer for caches,
lead pencil riddles 'neath lamplight oil
scribbles and calendar slashes.

Next day I'll swing the pickax with vigor
breaking fossils and lime rocks loose,
fracture chips and flakes dime sized or bigger
till that mother load shows in the sluice.

Peeping eye squinting, view in the loupe
adoring her sparkle and grain,
goldsmith's tools roll us into a hoop
I'm not Richard and she ain't Jane.

We ride on bumpy roads many miles
she might even tack on my name,
I'm hers she's mine no walking the aisle
gonna pull up stakes to this claim.

SUPER

Nice poem .

Thanks for the acknowledgement y'all.

Excellent imagery.

Always enjoy your writing.

Thanks Storm, I appreciate it.