I envy those who sit and play
Piano as I would croquet.
Then my style’s copied, on the lawn,
By non-croqueters, later on.
I envy Roger, Herb and Joe
Their knack of stacking easy dough;
While they in turn make jealous cracks
About the way I can relax.
I envy all the folks who paint;
Who write; who golf; who sin; who saint;
Who swim; who dance; who skate; who fly–
And some of them wish they were I.
This definition’s not a bum one:
A talent’s what you envy someone.
by Ray Romine Sunday, July 9, 1950
