Being the genteel poor in the 1940s—poem
At a time when nobody was very rich
a country vicar with six kids
was paid with a roof overhead
and a goose at the door
Category: Unyoung
Meditation: the method is the medium
Meditation works from body to mind. No need to try hard: just wait for the magic to happen.
Continue reading
Poem about credit card debt
A strained analogy between the terrifying nature of debts that increase relentlessly and Hercules’ battle with the many-headed Hydra.
Continue reading
My relationship with money — a poem
Get finances in order: note the bossy tone.
The Sergeant Major barks, “Chop chop!
How many times do I have to tell you?
Are you deaf? (well yes)
All about money — a poem
No-one writes odes to money
yet what a thrill it was.
We did our jobs all week
feeding the chooks, setting the table