Real Wealth My neighbors don't live close to me But we've each got our niche Government says this area's poor Our secret is: we're rich. My wealth won't buy insurance It won't trade in for much But "rich," to me, is measured By things no one can touch. The hint of mint in native hay Fresh, sweet mountain air Owls perched high in cottonwoods A golden eagle pair Sheep that run toward my voice Love in a little boy's eyes The frying smell of just-caught trout A winter when nobody dies The pleasure of making a garden Soft soothing drizzles of rain One dazzling double rainbow Good lessons that come without pain Summers that age into autumns of gold Wind humming songs like a choir Sun shining bright on crystals of ice That glitter like diamonds on fire Courage to face the disasters Laughter to lighten the load Humor to flavor the tasteless times Common sense to level the road Joy filters through my senses I know this life is healthy Won't build up my bank account But damn sure makes me wealthy. by Peggy Godfrey _____________________________________________________________ Peggy Godfrey Used with the permission of the author. Transcribed by Paul M. Webber on 20 February 2002. Home Page: http://home.pcisys.net/~pwebber/31_id/rtw.htm