I start my days bathed in gold

However fleeting that may be

A blanket so precious before me unfolds

As yellow maple leaves rain down on me

On my way to work I am enveloped in silk so fine

Produced by the most talented of creatures

That use my fences to attach their lines

For handiworks that challenge the skills of weavers

Then I luxuriate in the finest of furs

Draped across my shoulders

Warm with life and beating hearts

My herd’s coats thicken as the days grow colder

While I work I am serenaded by the sweetest choir

Tiny sopranos spreading their song and voices

From the tree tops and across my tiny shire

I stop and listen for a moment as the land rejoices

For lunch I dine on cuisine prepared with the finest food

From farm to table within a few steps

A simple stroll from garden to coop

Is all I need for a meal so fresh

During my break I have not one but three masseuse so personal

Thinking they know when attention is required

Their gift of affection can be almost unmerciful

With soft murmurings they knead away my tired

My daylight hours are filled with all these riches

But the gifts continue to be bestowed

As the night time falls and bewitches

Me with even more of nature’s overflow

I recline beneath the blue autumn sky

As the setting sun turns it pink

I can’t help but admire the frescoes passing by

Like Michelangelo’s paintings at the Chapel Sistine

The setting sun tells me it’s time for more

to get finished before darkness falls

I head back to the barn for evening chores

Escorted by bats and their silent calls

I am entertained by these winged acrobats

As they swoop and dive with the greatest of ease

I try to listen to them chitter and chat

As they thrill on their wireless flying trapeze

Before I know it the curtain falls

And a spotlight illuminates my earthly floor

I stand alone in a vast hallowed hall

Dripping in silver and diamonds galore

I cannot help but think myself blessed

To live a life so full of abundance

I have everything I need to address

All my senses without anything being redundant

From the woodland and its kaleidoscope of colors

To the whistling wind through wings of migrating ducks

And all the textures and smells I seem to discover

While exploring forests, fields, and even muck

Autumn passes as quickly as it commences

From the first turning leaf to the last one that falls

I savor every single one of the perfect moments

Before the arrival of winter’s icy squalls

So enjoy the riches that you are provided

Never take for granted a single one

For one day you may be chided

By yourself for wasting days foregone

"That man is richest whose pleasures are the cheapest."

-Henry David Thoreau