A Limerick for Leadville’s Laddies and Lasses
by Brennan Ruegg, Leadville Today Contributor
A young man once walked to Leadville
And said he’d start using his head well,
Walked down to the Scarlet,
And danced with a harlot,
And now he walks on a treadmill.
Another one came by an airplane,
With hair as thick as a mare’s mane,
But became a right chiefer
Of the fine emerald reefer,
And now his hair clogs the bath drain.
One woman came seeking adventure,
And daring a man to contend her,
Picked the wrong fight
With a miner one night,
And left Leadville with a shiny new denture.
They come either rich, or rather poor,
To close one or open another door,
Say they’re just passing through,
For a month or two,
And in ten years are experts on mining lore.
Because Leadville’s a singular place,
Of many a familiar face.
It makes quite a change,
From life on the Front Range,
Because here we’re giraffes in the rat race!