Human Economics

Money is not life
Don't waste time scheming
To have it is not living
Leave me my dreaming

Drawing on the Wallpaper

God has painted a sunrise
Pastel blue, pink and gold
Translucent, ephemeral
Balm for my soul

The children have scribbled on it
With chalk from low to high
As impudent toy aircraft
Leave scratches on the sky

Entrancled

The troglodyte at midnight
Did not feel himself
And ran to check his tranclements
Displayed upon the shelf

Of all his little treasures
One could not be found
He searched upon the shelf
He searched upon the ground

He searched among the kraggle
Littered everywhere
His most beloved tranclement
Simply wasn't there

He drew a breath and searched
More methodically
But, knee-deep in kraggle
He simply couldn't see

Of course the cunning tranclement
Hiding on the ground
By the patient troglodyte
Eventually was found

There must be a moral
From this scene so true
If you are a troglodyte
I give advice to you

You may have a sleepless night
Tormented by a naggle
If you allow your tranclements
To be obscured by kraggle