The Mine
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The Mine in which I Labor

By Paul Hall, April, 1986, Mt. Isa, Australia.

I dig in depths of times gone by

the future for to read.

Where there is but the present 

in planetary speed.

While planets like the one I'm on

do wend their ways through space

and all of my discoveries

are thought to be disgrace.

For there are texts immutable

in every depth I plumb

and each is steeped in mystery

that renders me quite dumb.

The mine in which I labor

I never more could leave

for there is fascinating truth

where destinies do cleave.

And now I pass my treasure out

unto the waiting crowd

though nevermore they'll see my face

but in my funeral shroud.

And now too large to enter back 

through yon terrestrial door,

too small, I can but trundle out

the loads of precious ore.

 --Fine art, digital art, music, several voice introductions,  my artwork, sociology,  the cosmos, economics, education, medicine, poetry, humor, premonitions, covered bridges, feedback, the website search engine, contents, weblogs, art school, classes.

The Mine in which I Labor

Copyright (c) 1987 by Paul Hall.  All rights reserved.

I dig in depths of times gone by the future for to read.