The Prospector

Panning for gold

in your eyes,

prospecting for love

in your heart,

knowing the waters must

wash away so much

before the ore will twinkle

like your smile.

Swirling waters,

grubstake romance,

filing a claim to you

was so very hard.

The promise of riches,

of lonesome mornings

dispelled by you

drives me on to -

Can it be? Do I see?

Washed away clean,

holding in my hands,

a gem-quality beauty,

like you.