This anonymously written poem is sent out to Fab Grandma, and anyone else who...
Collecting Rocks
I think there shall never be
An ignoramus quite like me,
Who roams the hills throughout the day
To pick up rocks that do not pay;
For there’s one thing, I’ve been told:
I take the rocks and leave the gold.
O’er deserts wild or mountains blue
I search for rocks of varied hue.
A hundred pounds or more I pack,
With blistered feet and aching back.
And after this is said and done,
I cannot name a single one.
I pick up rocks where’er I go,
The reason why I do not know,
For rocks are found by fools like me
Where nature intended them to be.
This truly fits me, except I can name many of them.
11 comments:
let's see: that is quartz, the over there is quartz, and the other one is quartz. and they preety black one, I dunno.
My "gold" is the beautiful day, the beautiful scenery, and the beautiful people in my life. The other stuff? just dirt. shiney dirt.
I like the poem and I have absolutely no doubt that you know the name of almost all of them.
Oh wow; this could be me as well...thank you for sharing.
This could be me... but not with rocks. Not usually at least.
Amen. I could be the Dr. Doolittle of Rocks - I talk to them and they talk right back. When I buy a backpack - has to be heavy duty for all the "souvenirs" I bring back from hikes here and there. This poem is "so" me.
A nice poem, I like stones too. You are leading an interesting life. Great pictures of your travels. Wonderful, awakens the travel bug.
OMGoodness...that wrote a poem about me..tee hee...
I think i will have to steal this one!
I like the adapted words of this Gaelyn. I also collect stom=nes and shells, what for I don't know!! LOL!!
That's a great poem. I too am a big fan of picking up rocks wherever I go. - Margy
I don't take rocks from the national forest where I walk, however I do have a big problem with collecting too much quilting fabric from yard sales and thrift stores.
Ignoramus??? I think not!!!
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