| This husband of mine is a treat to behold; He's a real old sweetie and does what he's told. Well, not really I fear, he's definately the boss; He tells me the answers when I'm at a loss. He cooks like a chef and gives free hugs, He's even explained the species of bugs. I need him for sure, He's certainly the best Putting up with an Aussie, he knows its a test. When we talk to each other, It can be a bother, With accents and sayings so odd; But we work things out, without a shout, He's a long, tall, blonde haired old bod. Okay now, it's my turn to have, the t.v. remote control; I'm tired of sci-fi or history or war, Or Californian cops on patrol. I want quilts and decorating and art, Despite our differences, we'll never be apart. He can go fishing with his mates from town, Till he gets back, I have the loneliest frown; Hoping he's safe and taking good care, Driving along, maybe seeing a bear. He makes me cuppa's of wonderful tea Bakes me cakes for all to see, Lasagne's his favourite and best cooked dish, Spaghetti too, or anything I wish. There's only one thing which I do not like, It makes me shiver and shake, It's Goulash you see, it doesn't like me. Which I beg him, please do not make. His feet are big and he eats a lot, And his hair is fairly sparse, But he'll do me The test you see, He'll surely come through with a pass. He's a Canadian bod, who shares my home, With Wilbur, Frisky and me. Lots of laughs and things to enjoy; We live in the woods in upper B.C. ~ Jana MB~ 2001 |
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