A Treasure Not Rare I was tilling the earth On an old piece of ground When the tines of my tiller Made a clink of a sound So I bent to untangle Whatever had fouled Discover the cause Of that clink in my plow It was a couple of shoes No doubt of their source Two cast-iron clunkers Left by a horse "Would the horseshoes be lucky?" I thought to myself Or were they forewarning Of quite something else It took only a minute To make up my mind Decided the fortune Foretold by my find The luck's here already That horse made it sure Just look at this soil Dark loam from manure So when planting a garden The treasure's not rare There's wealth in the hay That's been through the mare. © 1989 Daniel K. Statnekov