I know of men, of untold wealth
Who are as miserable as sin,
Whilst I, although in most unceratin health
Are surrounded by loving kin.
...
I think perhaps, the worst mistake,
It e'er befalls, a man to make,
In later years, when he has leasure,
Is to visit scenes of childhood pleasure.
...
Of all the senses, God gave man,
The sense of smell, is one we can
Least do without, for poor is he,
Who gazing, at some lilac tree,
...
To countless countries i have been.
Many's the wonderful sight I've seen.
The Taj Mahal, in moonlight's glow,
Majestic Alps, all crowned with snow'
...
Most objects here, do worthless seem,
Yet, within this shop, lies many a dream,
That Zulu shield some soldier brought,
From battlefield, where he gallantly fought.
...
A Truly Wealthy Man
I know of men, of untold wealth
Who are as miserable as sin,
Whilst I, although in most unceratin health
Are surrounded by loving kin.
Three generations of my genes
With smiles and cheeerful care,
Pay heed, to every wish, and need,
Make me most welcome there.
Such families are rare these days
Most are selfish, full of greed,
Undeserving, of any praise,
Heedless of others' need.
But Celtic blood flows through our veins,
Whence comes comes the mystic care.
Celtic love, it knows no reins,
It's steadfast, always there.
Am I, not more wealthy then
Than all these richer men?
You have joined PH with an amazing poem devoted to your father. I have seen your style and the beauty and depth of your expression. My best wishes to you. Thanks, Alan Cooper.