Fools Gold

Fools Gold

 

I wonder I should ever hold,

A nugget of the purest gold,

for many seasons now I've sought,

for it's glisten, finding naught,

yet my poor and lonely hands,

grasping worn prospecting pan,

as here, prospecting in the stream,

I sit, searching for golden dream.

 

The smallest speckle I can see,

swirling in the river's lee,

and so I rise from where I am,

moving swiftly with my pan,

lest that sparkle be swept away,

and once again I find I may,

be left with nothing, more or less,

and find my day is valueless.

 

Ah I see it clearer now,

as it glistens, I think of how,

I shall retrieve it's purity,

so I may have it just for me.

It teases me, from river bed,

and I am lured, discontent,

with having nothing, needing all,

“come and get me”, I hear it's call.

 

And so I plunge towards it's source,

in the rivers swirling course,

temptation mine and I am lost,

in desire at all cost,

to own that gold, and my lust

for it means that I must,

Take chance that I may even be

swept along dangerously.

 

I now have crossed the river, sure

of my desire, and nothing more,

than that can enter to my mind,

as prospecting I might find,

the greatest nugget ever held,

in all creation, so I fell

on my knees, beneath a tree,

panning gold, greedily.

 

It is now mine, that purest speck,

I have longed for, and yet..

as I hold it in my hand,

I look more closely and understand,

what I desired so much to hold,
It is merely fools gold.