the simple pleasures abound (ie: might be more where this came from)

Ode to the Chillage and its Thrifty Residents

The other night at Brewer's Art,

A truth became quite clear:

Each item in which I was clothed,
Was cheaper than my beer.

My skirt was just a dollar,
And my shirt was only three.
My pendant: ninety-seven cents,
The chain that held it: free.

The only way my wardrobe could
Be cheaper's were it pilfered.
The truth, in fact, is once a week,
I just walk straight down Guilford.

(In summer on a Saturday,
You cannot beat the odds
That yard sales will abound before
Those colorful facades.)

Furniture, jewelry, clothes, and gifts,
Are things these sales do boast.
The simple joys in my neighborhood
Are the things that charm me most.