Money is not happiness
– Gustav Flaubert
You will not buy such aphorism for a ride.
When you are in world, such masochistic prognoses
You circumvent. A report of thunder
In the welkins blue is simply majestic.
‘I love my daddy, like he loves his dollar’
wrote an American poet, decades back
Money no doubt is a veritable God and
Like a true God demands total submission.
Sometime you need a God to be cruel
Sometime an angel looks askance at crossroads
Part of the universe bump and break
Storms and earthquakes are not real hell.
When the wanton God tosses you in to the fourwinds
We are likely to be fragile and flaccid.
Money, the philosophers stone turns the base into worthy
Celebritydom is at its beck and call
The rich have no commitments, to earth or heaven
Who will draw up a Magna Carta for Bill Gates and Warren Buffet.
There is the money in all its innocence
Money, it is said, is only what it does
Money is not unalloyed happiness, agreed
Harmony is the real thing, is it not?
The halo of the Enlightened is of golden hue
A goldfen decanter preserves the paramount truth,
The God of small and big things, is Gold
The sorest rind around sweet life, is Gold
The most sweet freedom, is to live as you please,
Without having the need to work.
Only money can bring about that
A garden of Eden, in this squalor-earth.
Money of all things, does not grow on trees
Nor is it begotten by a golden goose
Something you attempt, Something you do,
Makes the golden daffodils in your door yard bloom