Ms. Donnita Reiman

Let it never be said, that the Sourdough is dead
Only the skeptics have bid him farewell.
Rewards from the mine are but a matter of time,
But the earth weeps from a the sweat of his toil.
It’s down in the dark where a miner makes his mark,
Where adventure and fortune are waiting.
Treasures of the deep are fast asleep,
Waiting for him to awaken them.

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