A hundred million is the prize tonight;
and if I win, then maybe I just might
embark upon a life of luxury,
and buy myself a villa by the sea.
Perhaps I'll splurge and buy a brand new truck,
for currently it seems I chance my luck
each time I climb on board and drive away,
in hope I'll make it home again that day.
The family will get their share as well,
and special friends (which ones, I cannot tell).
A goodly sum will find its way into
the bank account of Animal Rescue.
Oh, won't it be so grand to have great wealth?
So long as I can also have good health;
just think of the enjoyment to be found
distributing those pennifs all around.
Three in a billion is the chance that I
will have myself a bigger slice of pie;
and thus, however humble I might seem,
be feeling like the cat that got the cream.
Now you might say I've lost my mind, as such,
and it's quite true, I grant, that not so much
as one chook raffle have I ever won;
still, dreaming silly dreams can be quite fun.
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Author Notes
Today's word: pennif (n.) a banknote.
In Australian pubs and clubs, the "chook raffle" is a nightly event. It is a lucky draw, where the usual prize is a chicken (chook) or tray of meat.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book.
Thanks for reading.
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