Sunday, September 18, 2011


"Fortune comes to everyone who waits," Dad wrote as the introduction to this poem. "This old saying may be true, if you don't run out of time."

I don't care how far you've gone
Toward acquiring fame;
It doesn't bother me at all
That people hail your name.

And I don't give a hoot because
Your house is bigger'n mine,
And you've got such a fancy place,
And all fixed up so fine.

You're welcome to your Cadillac,
You drive with such delight;
I don't begrudge you all of this,
As a jealous fellow might.

But, if we're even, all of us,
And equal at the start,
It's hard to see how we can get
So many bucks apart!

For your good fortune to arrive,
You hadn't long to wait;
But it appears that mine will come
Too little and too late.

With all the riches you have gained,
I say hooray for you!
Though I'd be better satisfied
If I could have some, too!

This is another of those "I don't know which book it's from" poems. It was submitted to the Brethren's Retirement Community newsletter by my Aunt Olive (Dad's sister) -- she's been doing that in his honor ever since he passed away.

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