Category: Money

I sing the praises of Angus McTavish–
A good-hearted soul, but never lavish.

by Ray Romine Saturday, September 13, 1947

Money won’t buy happiness;
You can bet in advance on it.
But I’d grab the opportunity
To take a chance on it.

by Ray Romine Wednesday, February 17, 1954

If this is trite
How say it better?
One has to write
To get a letter.

So uncomplex!
But here’s what kills:
I send out checks
And get back bills.

by Ray Romine Friday, April 28, 1950

How can the words one’s wife employs
Make sound so darned expensive
Those little things her spouse enjoys?
(Unless they’re self-defensive.)

by Ray Romine Saturday, July 8, 1950

There’s nothing kills me
Inch by inch
Like new (expensive)
Shoes that pinch.

Time was some tramp
Would surely share ’em;
Today, tight-lipped,
I grin and wear ’em.

by Ray Romine Friday, February 29, 1952

It stands unique, in contrast to
Budget, purse and skillet
As the thing that doesn’t empty
Faster than you fill it.

by Ray Romine Tuesday, October 30, 1951

Parents find this grain of comfort
In the way food costs are surging:
Kids come for meals without appeals,
And eat them without urging.

by Ray Romine Wednesday, June 20, 1951

I don’ t think money
Is especially funny.

Other folks’ riches
Never put me in stitches.

As for my own dough–
I wouldn’t know.

by Ray Romine Monday, September 29, 1947

Who objects to being passionate
So long as there’s sufficient cassionate?

by Ray Romine Thursday, September 22, 1949

When someone hits me for a loan
Why is it I can’t learn to groan,
And pitch a tale of abject sorrow
Like that I get when I would borrow?

by Ray Romine Monday, July 30, 1951