I've just seen a house worth a million pounds
but not every thing is as rosy as it sounds
I have no sour grapes or jealousy - only
wistful thoughts it seems to me - that,  

My sad longing is only for what I
already have: a small space, a friendly
face that doesn't carp and amusement
over things that will not work, I don't need

a deck as an extra perk, the crunch
of gravel that sounds like the beach
is there anyone who wants to teach
me a new style? Perhaps, when I've made

my pile; I'll wear my best cothes on a
Sunday afternoon - if you want to impress,
give me the moon.