An Ode To My Wife

Every once in a while somebody will ask me, how I was able to meet and convince The Blonde in the House to become my fair bride. Well, it was not the easiest thing I have ever done, but my charm and wit probably played a part in it,
True, she may have a different view of the entire matter, but I am the one writing this so you will have to take my word. I met her at a dance, convinced her that she should date me, and it went from there.
One of my attributes, so I told her, was that I was a great writer of poetry – you know the ladies love that sort of thing. The only problem was that I couldn’t write a poem if my whole being depended upon it. Therefore, I hedged a lot when she would ask when I was going to write one. She actually agreed to marry me even without the poem. That lack of a romantic poem hung heavy on me for many a year. Therefore, one day I decided I would write a poem come what may. Of course, I was still hampered by my lack of rhyming ability.
I decided to read some of the works of great poets. I assumed that if I did enough reading I would pick up the ability to write by osmosis or something. After a year or so of rigorous reading, I still could not come up with a good rhyming poem on her many qualities. Finally, I decided that writing a poem was like my golf game – that is, I was thinking too much thus preventing the creative juices from bearing fruit. Thus, I decided that I would no longer try to write a poem, but instead write an ode. I made the assumption that this would work since I really didn’t know what an “ode” was, but it still sounded classy. I then let my insight from reading the poets, particularly Robert Service, take over. The result was …

An Ode To My Wife
Said Barry Evans unto his proud Papa:
“I want to take a wife my pop.” Papa laughed “Ha Ha,
And whose, my son” he slyly said, but I with a frown,
Cried: “My Pop, I mean to wed. I want to settle down”
My father responded with a smile;
“You’re young, my boy; I much prefer that you wait awhile.”
But I sighed: “I cannot wait, for I am twenty four;
And I have met my wonderful fate: I worship, I adore.
Such beauty, grace and charm has she, I am sure that you will approve,
For if I live a century none other can I love.”
“I have no doubt”, my father shrugged, “that she’s a proper gal,
But is she one who can also be a pal?”
When her name I stated, he said, “Ho, of her all are fond,
For everyone knows that there is none better than,
The Blonde”