Not to Worry, There’s More in the Bank
Do not despair that I have set low price
Upon my intellect and all its blooms,
Its wild embellishments, creative rooms
Filled full with every possible device
Invention and intelligence can build–
My brilliance shedding dazzling insights far
As light can travel from the largest star–
My memory mansion’s rooms are this far filled,
And yet I charge a pittance, just a cent,
For all the riches I have made to date,
And fling them with abandon, though so great,
Along the curb beneath your pediment.
Why would I cast my wealth thus at your feet?
Like pennies, I am also obsolete.
Art-Colored Glasses 
Love this. I’ve gotten a lot of advice lately about how I shouldn’t be giving my fiction away for free. I think I’ll start answering with, “Don’t worry. I’ve got more.” š
The perfect response, I think. š If we have the privilege and the freedom to give, why on earth *not*?
Love the wild abandon and the generosity of spirit!
So glad! I know that you have those gifts in abundance yourself–they’re written all over in your blog!!
So, when do we go from being obsolete to being vintage? š
I like to think that we, like fine wines, are never actually obsolete but rather get our Vintage designation from being *born* excellent and merely refining it over the years. That way, the more the years, the better the refinement!! š
Yes, I too prefer to think in terms of fine vintage rather than obsolete but your words made it all quite magical š
My dear Bella, I think of you and your blog-world as vintage *champagne*. š
xo