I just found this poem I wrote a few years ago, and thought I may as well put it on my blog for everyone to chuckle at. I don't pretend it's wonderful poetry...just pretend it rhymes.

Here goes.

Danny was a mighty boy who thought he was a man.
He had a steady banking job and went by the name "Dan".
Well the year was 1849, and as we've all been told,
The only thing to do just then was go and dig for gold.

Danny hung around a while and tried not to give in,
For to leave a steady banking job would surely be a sin,
But man is only human, and Danny was no more,
So he spent his hard-earned savings at he nearest dry-goods store.

He bought himself a shovel, a pick axe, and a mule,
A wagon load of jerky and a life's supply of gruel.
He bid his folks a fond farewell, yet not a tear shed he,
Dreaming only of the riches and adventure he would see.

The journey was a headache, the food not to his taste,
The ground too hard to sleep on, the men rude and un-chaste.
They thought themselves a riot when their jokes were only corny,
But things like this must be endured when you're off to Californy.

Finally young Dan arrived and found a place to dig,
But hardly had he started when he struck gold. It was big,
It was marvelous, stupendous, Dan knew he was set for life.
He could go home, buy a mansion, a new house, and a wife.

He packed up in a hurry, and soon was headed East.
This time he went in style, he could afford a coach at least.
He stopped at his old bank, his riches in a bag,
To make a grand deposit, and, of course, to brag.

His old boss leaned back in his chair, trying not to smile,
And said, "my boy, I realize you've been gone quite a while,
But when all's said and when all's told,
What you've got there, boy, is fool's gold."


The end.