Buried Treasure

   This is a true story. It happened to me and my brother, Jason. When we were boys, our grandfather Dennis (or Grandpa Elvis to some) told us lots of stories. Some were about his boyhood adventures while others were simply made up on the spot. One serial adventure story I fondly remember was about a gold miner named Ike "the Spike" Clampet, a man who struck it rich in the Sierra Nevada range. I suppose me and brother were quite caught up in gold, gold panning, and had the extra energy to burn digging in random
places on our grandparents' three acres. Grandpa saw the potential, and here's the result below. Enjoy.

BURIED TREASURE

Tucked away in my memories, when I was but a lad,
Not more than eight or nine, a treasure hunt I had.
My own California gold rush tale I'll relay-
One my own children might listen to someday.

Grandpa told us stories of miners and their gold
(Yarns so fantastic that we never tired of them told).
'Round the fireplace we sat listening to one particular story,
We kids caught gold fever: the treasure hunter's quest for glory.

Sizing up our keen interest, the enthralled look on each face,
Grandpa said, leaning in, "Didja know we have treasure on this place?"
My brother and I about fell over in utter surprise and disbelief
When Grandpa assured us finding treasure we could achieve.

Skeptical, we asked, "Really?" he said, "of course- if you work hard-
You might even find some buried treasure along the house in the yard!"
Well, our boyish imaginations ran wild with sheer delight
And we lay awake thinking 'bout gold in our dreams all that night.

Next morning after breakfast we found Grandpa had staked our claim.
Then he went off to work and we commenced to do the same.
Like a couple of greenhorn prospectors, our shoveled eagerly decended
Into the soil as our hopes rode high for that gold to be apprehended.

Digging and a'picking like two Yukon sourdoughs,
We felt as if in Grandpa's yard we find the City of El Dorado.
But like any seasoned miner knows, treasure doesn't just lay
     right there on the ground,
So we deduced whatever we were digging for must be a foot
     or two on down.

Our dig grew to six feet long, two feet deep and four feet wide.
Dirt was up to our elbows and we'd probably keep digging 'till we died.
Fortunately, to our relief , our trusty shovels went "KERPLUNK"!
We let out a yahoo and gleefully began uncovering what we struck.

After feathering away dirt and dust there we both sat-
Two exhausted, bewildered brothers not knowing what we
      were looking at.
The gears in our brains turned from treasure to other thoughts-
Like why of all places did Grandpa have us dig in this spot?

As we sat there pondering, it became clear to tell
We hadn't uncovered gold for there arose a treacherous smell.
Here we are at the conclusion- here our hearts both sank.
For there's no fame, riches or glory when you dig up a septic tank.