The assets that I have accrued
Are, I think, too often viewed
As insignificant. I count
One friend as worth a large amount;
A Home, one’s family, cannot
Find their worth measured. And the pot
Of wealth we lump as “Nature” yields
Interest in all the fields
Of daisies, wheat, or roadside weeds,
Collecting sunshine. What are deeds,
And dross possessions, trite and cold,
Beside, to me, my own fool’s gold?
by Ray Romine Monday, January 8, 1951
