Wife

Eyes of shining copper

Smiles bold and bright

Manner soft and timid

Or radiant and bright

Hair like willow branches

Streaked with desert clay

Countenance all somber

Except, of course, in play

I don't know if I deserved her

Or if dreamings true can be

For few things are so precious

As my lover is to me

 

Her skin all pale and freckled

And blushing in between

Her soul all worn and weathered

From the places it has seen

Her breasts! Those Breasts!

With curves beyond compare

And within her love heart beating

The overwhelming kindly care

Her sad soul scarred and solemn

Her joyous bounding glee

The wild mare full of passion

So my lover is to me

 

She has lived a harder life

She has come through every strife

And the joy is always rife

I am so blessed to call her

Wife.