Reaping the Benefit
Reaping the Benefit
The midday sun blazed on the field
Where parched crops refused to yield
A barren sprawl that awaits cool rain
To yet again produce the grain
Trespassing a way upon this land
A shrewd eyed man, detector in hand
And knapsack wobbling on his back
As yet no find to make a stack
The time went by upon this plot
The dying day no longer hot
Shadows spread across the ground
The elusive treasure still not found
The fading sun took pity on the gent
A dying ray of amber hope was sent
It alighted on a beer can ring
And turned it into gold from tin
It nestled amid a shriveled vine
The sun had given it a lustrous shine
The man could not believe his luck
He dropped to his knees and picked it up
He cast the detector to one side
His skyward glance was gratified
The precious gift was in his hand
A ring of gold, an eternity band.
The moon now gazed from obscure sky
On table top it did espy
The golden ring next to the bed
And sleeping man in his homestead
Its lunar rays cast light from dark
To sit on the ring and leave its mark
From gold to tin it was transformed
The ring to beer pull newly formed
Copyright © Rose Johnson | Year Posted 2017
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