The Millionaire's Club

Down past the meadow is the grand old hotel. Where statues of marble encircle the ponds Tall cypress line up like soldiers at arms, saluting each limo that comes down the hill Limousines arrive daily, like vultures of prey, to stop and eject their catch of the day There is proof on arrival, of fortune and assets. Hosts greet each guest, as the day stretches on, sporting long coat-tails and red satin vests As we watched from our hillside, from a vast world away, we're inclined to walk down, to take a survey Too rich for our blood! We are flooded with awe Yet, we're drawn to peek in. Where the rich wine and dine and we will try, most discreetly, to blend into grey. Alabaster stone gates, and the thick sculptured stairs are reeking affluence, that we'll never share __ Heading back to our campground, on the river's west side, we returned to our tent, tucked under the pines It's been faded by sunlight, patched together with twine Where contentment is canvas, and the wind is a song, and where water makes music, and the breeze is a poem Our belongings are in order, (in a disorderly way) A camp-stove, a lantern, for the end of the day A tent, (army surplus)…. and a stack of dry wood will add to our comfort, as well as it should Would we want to change places, if ever we tried? Would we trade all our moonscapes, or the chipmunks, or tunes? As we sat by the fire, to remember our day We have watched the bright embers, as they floated away Pinpricks of fire that mixed with the stars We've been granted our millions, ….while owning the sky.