I KNEW you lot would have fun with this. On the button, Donna. Sam can't get Eratosphere. Just keeps getting the busy tone. So here's his characteristic effort. Poems seriously about money are at a premium, which is curious since, in my experience, poets rarely think of anything else. Have I recommended before, Hilaire Belloc's 'Would that I had three hundred thousand pounds'?
Sam’s Palinode
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard my broker say,
'Shed hearts and loves a'plenty
But stow your cash away;
Send letters and send flowers
But keep liquidity.'
But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.
When I was four-and-sixty
I heard him say once more:
'You may be in a fix; the
Stock market's on the floor.
You'd better cash out quickly
Before your debts accrue."
Now I am five-and-sixty,
And arrgh, 'tis true, 'tis true.
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