I picked up a four leaf clover
And her love has taken over
To points of disturbances…
At times things I don’t fancy
Are what she chokes on me
Like anklets on a heavy heel
And beautiful icing on a cake
She mix trouble into sweet flakes
Whose true taste is in the eating
And rude polite awakening,
My wife, my world, the joy I chose
Tender and sweet like tiger toes
No hedge between keeps the home green
Her philosophy, no vent spleen.
The moon wanes while the roaster crows
Over my body she will roll
Waking me up against my wish
Stuck on me, my heart she fills
Her disturbances have a sauce
Apart from her, no better source.
