3 result(s) for Miner Mining Gold Poems.
These poems are completely original - not copied from anywhere. Feel free to use them however you want.
Dust of Dreams
Beneath the hills where shadows sleep,
A miner digs with patient hands,
His lantern swinging, pale and deep,
While rivers hum in ancient bands.
The pan spins round in water's kiss,
And gold drifts down like evening light,
Each glinting grain a fleeting bliss,
A promise sparkling through the night.
Yet dust that settles, soft and bright,
Also settles on his tired eyes,
Turning his dreams to golden flight,
Beneath the vast and silent skies.
The Shining Vein
Before the sun has climbed the ridge,
the miner lifts his pick with grit,
each swing a prayer, each breath a bridge
to treasure hidden in the pit.
His brow runs salt, his shoulders ache,
the dust clings close like a second skin,
yet down he goes, the tunnels take
his hope and sweat and wearing thin.
Then flickers gold within the stone,
a glint that dares him to believe,
and all the toil he's made his own
returns to him in a blazing sheave.
So rise, dear miner, scrape the ground,
for shining prizes come to those
who sweat and grit and never drown
in darkness, and so the gold still glows.
Echoes in the Deep
Beneath the mountain's ancient spine,
A miner swings his iron line,
The pickaxe bites the sleeping stone,
And strikes resound through rock alone.
Clang, clang, the tunnels answer back,
Each blow a bell along the track,
Where lantern light trembles and sways,
And dust drifts down like silver days.
He chases veins of molten gleam,
A hidden river, bright as dream,
And when at last the quartz gives way,
The glint of gold begins to play.
So echoes ring through shadowed halls,
Where hope is hammered from the walls.
Can't find the poems you're looking for?
