Monday, July 17, 2006

I can just imagine it in an Irish accent...

A Grain of Salt

While me irish eyes be smilin`
I be here to tell me story,
Those blyme things that me hates most
not one is in me glory.
Once me was an usherf
or a very special settin`
Would not have minded half so much
but it was ME weddin`, that was upsettin`

Me wife insists, and has me wear
those scratchy three piece suits,
If truth be known, me`d rather own
green pants, green hat and boots.
Around me neck a noose of sorts
a tie from me graduation,
Me feels like someone`s got me throat
the fear of strangulation.

Oh judge me not, don`t take me wrong
me wife, me loves most sweetly,
When I get back from work at night
the home is picked up neatly.
She pulls me shoes off when I ask
and helps me light me pipe,
She brings in Shamrock blooms each day
so me really shouldn`t gripe.

It matters not the little things
that push us up the wall,
If one has patience, love and trust
may the flaws we bare be small.
To ease the creases from thy brow
put aside each nagging fault,
And heed this moral to the end
take only with a grain of salt.

Copyright © 2003 Sally Ann Roberts

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