Just one poem I have been messing with

On Mount Zircon

On a ledge way up on the side of Mt. Zircon,

Near the old spring of water, deep and pure,

My daddy and I searched for the elusive gold strike.

There was only pyrite, garnet, and boulders of granite.

Zircon is my hometown mountain, her wealth mine.

In my mind, treasures multiplied through the years,

Rubys, silver, medallions, maybe dubloons.

Could be anything in those old mine shafts!

On a quest to reach the old goldmine,

Near at hand but far away in memory;

Zircon, I missed the blessings of ore,

Now I miss mountain hikes with my daddy.