By Lisa Shields
Date: 4 December 2000

The Means and The Way



I don't know that we'll ever be rich,
Not in the way that some reckon wealth.
But in the treasures you store in your heart,
I am a woman of fabulous means.

I have a vast stockpile to draw upon,
That never lose their values like bonds,
Triple A rated security that has only grown
By the way the soul reckons such things.

I have every sand castle he ever built for me,
And walks through lushly carpeted pine trails.
And a hundred full moons with my head
Crowned by the notch of his shoulder.

I have things he crafted for me,
Using his hands, and no small bit of heart,
The dreams he tells only to me,
Secure in the knowledge that I'll believe them,
And the knowing that he will be there,
His arms never too weary to hold me close
When all of life  seems too vast.

I am not the dream walking to many,
Not the trophy wife to torment others to envy,
But he tells me that I am all he needs,
So I am a woman of fabulous means.
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