Post by AquarianM on Oct 25, 2012 23:57:57 GMT -5
Gold Dust Creek...
Somewhere in the Mojave there was once a mining town,
Where gold was brought in by the sackful and dreams were grandiose,
A place where saloon doors swung on dusty hinges,
Wooden sidewalks could tell tales in their creaks and groans,
But something was lost in that old saloon,
Down in the cellar behind the crates of whiskey and gin,
Away behind the rum barrels and cases of bourbon,
A lone cowboy stands sentinel,
For it was on a Halloween night the word spread,
The gold was all dried up,
They closed the doors and left the places,
Lock stock barrel and saddle,
Riding off into the sunset,
One lonely and honest soul left in town.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/25/2012
Somewhere in the Mojave there was once a mining town,
Where gold was brought in by the sackful and dreams were grandiose,
A place where saloon doors swung on dusty hinges,
Wooden sidewalks could tell tales in their creaks and groans,
But something was lost in that old saloon,
Down in the cellar behind the crates of whiskey and gin,
Away behind the rum barrels and cases of bourbon,
A lone cowboy stands sentinel,
For it was on a Halloween night the word spread,
The gold was all dried up,
They closed the doors and left the places,
Lock stock barrel and saddle,
Riding off into the sunset,
One lonely and honest soul left in town.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/25/2012
