Discovered this poem on the old hard drive. I had forgotten I had written it, but I like the play on the golfing terminology, and how it weaves in to the story telling…
So I thought I would share!
A Wealth of Sadness
by Rochelle Elliot ©
The castle in Scotland sold,
a few less bars of gold.
The recession should diminish the
want for more,
– but that’s the poor man thinking.
Six hundred redundant
from five abandoned factories,
sure it breaks my heart.
Children die in Africa too, but what can I do?
I can’t save ’em all.
I made it fair and square and I won’t care
for those who judge my enjoyment.
Albatross… 3 under par
My life’s best work
started on this course.
The birds in the tree’s on the 12th tee
remind me of Salina.
Third wife, I loved holding her hand,
like coaxing a nervous finch from its perch.
I knew enough not to startle her.
Her father’s heart attacked him,
she took my private jet, to check.
He was bitter at her bettering.
He asked, “What’s a rich bloke like him doing
with a useless tramp like you?”
Then he died to spite her.
She looked damn sexy
at the funeral,
I took a few pills and stayed on after.
Made her more happy than the
diamond engagement ring.
She cleared the mess,
complained less that number two.
Grateful to have me I guess.
Eagle… 2 under par
the other woman.
I was sad the day she left.
A few pennies less.
It’s always hard finding another wife.