Written Afterwards
So the days of my tramping are over,
And the days of my riding are done—
I’m about as content as a rover
Will ever be under the sun;
I write, after reading your letter—
My pipe with old memories rife—
And I feel in a mood that had better
Not meet the true eyes of the wife.
You must never admit a suggestion
That old things are good to recall;
You must never consider the question:
‘Was I happier then, after all?’
You must banish the old hope and sorrow
That make the sad pleasures of life,
You must live for To-day and To-morrow
If you want to be just to the wife.
I have changed since the first day I kissed her.
Which is due—Heaven bless her!—to her;
I’m respected and trusted—I’m ‘Mister,’
Addressed by the children as ‘Sir.’
And I feel the respect without feigning—
But you’d laugh the great laugh of your life
If you only saw me entertaining
An old lady friend of the wife.
By-the-way, when you’re writing, remember
That you never went drinking with me,
And forget our last night of December,
Lest our sev’ral accounts disagree.
And, for my sake, old man, you had better
Avoid the old language of strife,
For the technical terms of your letter
May be misunderstood by the wife.
Never hint of the girls appertaining
To the past (when you’re writing again),
For they take such a lot of explaining,
And you know how I hate to explain.
There are some things, we know to our sorrow,
That cut to the heart like a knife,
And your past is To-day and To-morrow
If you want to be true to the wife.
I believe that the creed we were chums in
Was grand, but too abstract and bold,
And the knowledge of life only comes in
When you’re married and fathered and old.
And it’s well. You may travel as few men,
You may stick to a mistress for life;
But the world, as it is, born of woman
Must be seen through the eyes of the wife.
No doubt you are dreaming as I did
And going the careless old pace,
While my future grows dull and decided,
And the world narrows down to the Place.
Let it be. If my ‘treason’s’ resented,
You may do worse, old man, in your life;
Let me dream, too, that I am contented—
For the sake of a true little wife.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Related quotes
I Do
Well I've gone steady with a-lots of girls
And to all of them I tried to be true
But I'm so glad I never promised them
What I promised you
And that's I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life (ah yes the rest of my life)
Well I heard from my folks
Time and time again
To make sure that I found the right one
And every time you meet
Your heart will beat
And you'll want to say
You'll say I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life (ah yes the rest of my life now)
Oh yes I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life (ah yes the rest of my life now)
Ah ha ha I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life (ah yes the rest of my life now)
Ah ha ha I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life (ah yes the rest of my life now)
Ah ha yes I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wife- better half of life
Wife is the better half of life
Give wife love affection as soul-mate
Wife is not glorified maid as said
Wife do not want money salary honorarium
Do not make hulla gulla and do not beat drum.
Mian bibi relationship should not be commercialized
Third party intervention in family relation vandalized.
Wife is not a domestic labourer
Wife is backbone of the family
The maile stone of the family
Wife is the torchlight of the family
Wife is the colorful star
Do no put any question to her.
Wife is there to give everything
Wife is not to take anything in return
Wife is the goddess.
Only mad man can say wife is a domestic servant
Make wife a wife life-partner better half
And enjoy life freely.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Wedding Band
Joey Wedding Band
JoAnn was the birth name of my wife
To me Joey was her name for a lot of our married life
One of the best things anyone could ask for in life
Is to have a good and loving wife
When it comes time for me to pass no matter day or night
I hope and pray that my wife will be my guiding light
I did not complement my wife as much as I could of
But with all my heart I gave her my love
My wife is in heaven watching over our family
Hoping we could be the best we could be
I am now living by myself and on my own
I have my dogs and my family but I feel alone
I never thought I knew how bad pain could ever be
Until my wife died and left me
At times my wife lets me know she is near
She turns off the picture frame to let me know she is here
On a chain around my neck I wear my wife’s wedding band
I also still wear mine on the finger of my left hand
To anyone who reads this poem do not let the time with your family go
Everything is gone before you know
poem by Michael Gelb
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I Know This Poor Bloke
I know this poor bloke in the mood for suicide
And he has felt heavy hearted since the day his wife died
Some five years ago his ache of loss from him not gone
And till the day of his death his grief with him will live on.
I do meet him often though not every day
And for words to him I always feel stuck to say
He always talks of his dead wife and the grief that he feel
And for him I feel sorry since his sorrow is real.
On his sense of loss with him I sympathize
And each time I see him he has tears in his eyes
My condolences to him I already did pay
But the grief that he feels it is with him to stay.
The price of true love it can come at a great cost
And he is left to mourn for what he has lost
One in his late sixties his hair silvery gray
And the clock on his life it is ticking away.
A man due to grief in the mood for suicide
Though he is one now I would rather avoid
Since each time I meet him he talks of his dead wife
And I am one who needs laughter in my life.
poem by Francis Duggan
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‘Happy Birthday, Mum!
Your ninety years’ of love
To children and all, prove
The mother great and wife,
That you had been all life!
You slogged all life
As mother, wife;
With dogged days rife,
Frequent strife!
Another Marian,
Now nonagenarian;
What wisdom fills your heart,
In things, you’ve done from start!
God bless you mother dear,
And help you better hear,
And keep you from all fear,
And any earthly tear!
‘Happy Birthday, Mum! (10-30-2007)
Avoid becoming glum.’
Lovingly dedicated to my dear mother
Mrs.Stella Antoniswami, CBE
By son Celestine, wife Mercy and
Grand-daughters Cathy ad Diana
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-30-2007
poem by John Celes
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My Wife Is A Most Knowing Woman
My wife is a most knowing woman,
She always is finding me out,
She never will hear explanations
But instantly puts me to rout,
There's no use to try and deceive her,
If out with my friends night or day,
In a most inconceivable manner,
She tells where I've been right away,
She says that I'm 'mean' and 'inhuman.'
Oh! My wife is a most knowing woman.
She would've been hung up for witchcraft
If she had lived sooner, I know,
There's no hiding anything from her,
She knows what I do -- where I go;
And if I come in after midnight
And say 'I have been to the lodge,'
Oh, she says while she flies in a fury,
'Now don't think to play such a dodge!
It's all very fine, but won't do, man,'
Oh, my wife is a most knowing woman.
Not often I go out to dinner
And come home a little 'so so,'
I try to creep up through the hall-way,
As still as a mouse, on tip-toe,
She's sure to be waiting up for me
And then comes a nice little scene,
'What, you tell me you're sober, you wretch you,
Now don't think that I am so green!
My life is quite worn out with you, man,'
Oh, my wife is a most knowing woman!
She knows me much better than I do,
Her eyes are like those of a lynx,
Though how she discovers my secrets
Is a riddle would puzzle a sphynx,
On fair days, when we go out walking,
If ladies look at me askance,
In the most harmless way, I assure you,
My wife gives me, oh! such a glance,
And says 'all these insults you'll rue, man,'
Oh, my wife is a most knowing woman.
Yes, I must give all of my friends up
If I would live happy and quiet;
One might as well be 'neath a tombstone
As live in confusion and riot.
This life we all know is a short one,
While some tongues are long, heaven knows,
And a miserable life is a husband's
Who numbers his wife with his foes;
I'll stay at home now like a true man,
Oh, my wife is a most knowing woman.
poem by Stephen C. Foster
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My Future Wife
You are my sole hope in all my life.
The last dejection has gone away
When I met you on that very day.
All the troubles are completely gone;
From now on, I am no more alone.
You are my sole hope in all my life,
My all reason to live – my future wife.
Living and hoping to still keep you
By my heart and soul – and it's for true,
My all reason to live, my future wife.
I'd love to live by your side to death,
And take away, for you, my last breath.
I can be everything when you are near,
And leave behind any issues; my dear.
You are my sole hope in all my life,
You've really made me the man I am,
And got me head over heels out of jam
– My all reason to live, my future wife.
You are my sole hope in all my life,
My all reason to live – my future wife.
poem by Walid Boureghda
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Who is a wife?
Who is a wife?
Who can be a virtuous wife?
Who is a wife?
Who can stand the strife
To be a wife?
There is a woman
And there is a wife
Any one can be a woman
But not any one can be a wife
A wife will stand for her pride
A woman will always want a ride
A wife will say
“we ‘ll have a say”
A woman will say
“I ‘ld have a say”
A wife will say
“WE bought you those”
A woman will say
“Mom bought you those”
A wife would say
“We share the bills”
A woman would say
“I share the bills”
A wife cooks what “we” like
A woman cooks what “I” like.
A wife loves unconditionally
A woman loves conditionally
A wife always stands by…
A woman sometimes stands by…
A wife thinks about “us”
A woman thinks about “me”
A wife supports the plans
A woman plans the supports
A wife keeps the relationship
A woman snubs the relationship
A WIFE IS OPPOSITE OF A WOMAN
Who then is a wife?
Amidst all my strife
I‘ve found a darling wife
You too can, if you also tried.
poem by Jr. J.Lakie Kollie
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Broken heart
Poets have broken hearts
My wife Tapaswini alleged
And without broken hearts
No one would be a poet
My wife Tapaswini clarified.
The poet wonders in his world
The poet work wonders through
His words and sentences
And my wife Tapaswini left
No space for my replied.
My wife Tapaswini left the place
Where I was and my wife Tapaswini
Could not reach me where I am
And the sparrow the crow all
Arranged their feast with joy
Where I am writing poem.
Where I was writing I was there
Where I am writing I am there
My wife Tapaswini always with me
I was not with my wife Tapaswini
While writing and the allegation
Of my wife Tapaswini I certified
And I attested One can take it granted.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Mail-Box
As you arrive in the morning
To your office, my dear
And check your mails
Without doubt you know
I’ll be there for you
Waiting to give you
The mail of the day.
May be a poem
Or a prose -
A quote or a photo
That touches me…
And I would wish to
Share with you.
Or as ever before
Like I write everyday
My Diary of yesterday.
You may read in a hurry
As you always do
For you may have
Many other
Errands to run to.
Yet, my dear
Let me say it to you
That all my letters
And words to you
Are written with care
And the precious time
That I love to spend
Writing to you…
It’s been like this
For the past many years
And I hope it would be
For many, many years
When you open your
Mail-Box
And find in it
Amongst all your mails
A letter from me.
Everyday, every morning
For all those years
Till the day you retire
From your daily
Commuting…
To that very same Office
Of your 20 years.
And the day you retire
After your service
Of two decades more
You’ll have some nice
Memories
Of working together
With your colleagues
Many sour ones too
Of those meetings
That failed
Those deadlines
That derailed
And some good savings
Of your life of work
And a repertoire of friends
That stayed with you
Through all these years…
May be in one of those
Bitter-sweet memories
You might remember me
That mail-box girl
Who used to write to you
So very diligently
Every day of her life
To feel close to you
To be as near you
As much as she could
From many miles away
With a lonely, longing heart
And so many words to say.
For she couldn’t be your wife,
Neither your mistress
Nor be at your side
As you struggled and you hobbled
Through your life’s major strifes.
She could only be
A mute witness -
To all what you endured.
She could feel the stresses
And the strains
Of those sleepless nights
That eating outside
Those early morning wake-ups
Of your tours and travels
Like a vagabond
Trying to balance it out
Between work and home.
And they say: You are Married.
Married to your wife
Or your company, I guess.
For most of your time
Is taken away
By those tours
And your travels
Of a working life
Sans your wife
Beside you…
On many such nights
And busy days too
When you would rather
Be a husband to your wife
Than be a work-horse
All your Life.
And slog and slog and slog…
Thinking you are indispensable
For your company.
Yet that day would dawn on you
As it comes for every man
When he realises
That the company whom he
Worked for
Cared for more than his family
That very same company
To survive and thrive
In this world of the Fittest
Goes seeking young-blood
And leaves you aside.
And at the end of the day
You then do realise
Was it really worth
Giving those extra hours
Everyday
To your office over-time
And missing out on
Your wife’s
Diary for the Day
Or all what your son
Had to Say
To a Daddy-Dear
He could hardly get to see.
As a friend of yours,
A well-wisher too
And in this one of my
Many mails
That I write everyday
To you…
I would suggest you:
Take care of your wife
Be with your son
For these are the days
You would miss very often
When you grow old
And look back
In retrospection
And find that those
Glorious days you spent
Upgrading your career
Position and status
In the Office.
Those will go one day
And someone else
Would take your place
And the company would
Still survive without you
As it has done
With people coming and going
In all such big MNCs
Yet once your wife
Grows old
And your son grows up too,
You’ll miss these “good old” days
When you missed seeing your son
Growing up
Into the young lad
He would become one day.
And your wife would also feel
As If -
She has grown too old, too soon
For neither youth was on her side
Nor the time
She wished to cherish
With you, in her conjugal life.
So her youth and her time
Both awaited you
As the hope of life
Awaits a dying woman
On her Death-Bed.
As for me, My Love
I’ve never had the Fate
To live with you
And would probably never have
The Destiny
To share with you
My Life.
And yet, the woman out there
Your betrothed wife
Is a woman like me
And your son out there
Is also like the son
I’ve borne in me…
So, I would always love you
To have a happy family
Take care of them, my love
And be with them
As often as you can.
For a job may come,
A job may go…
Yet a wife once lost
Or a son gone forever
Won’t come back to you
However much you repent
Or regret
Later on…
Thinking of the Whys and Hows
Of the jobs that you did
The tours and the travels
And the over-time
Your company Fixed
For you.
Always Remember…
You are married to your wife
And not to your company.
And your son needs
The “Daddy-Dear” in you
Even if he may not tell you
Often, every day.
So Care, Share
And Be There
For Them…
Trust Me – You’ll get many more returns
And far more contentment
As you look back
Over the years…
Of all those precious moments
You spent with your family
Than going for power, position
Fame and money
And being a lap-dog to your Company
By running after them.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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At Bay
Wife
Reach out your arms, and hold me close and fast.
Tell me there are no memories of your past
That mar this love of ours, so great, so vast.
Husband
Some truths are cheapened when too oft averred.
Does not the deed speak louder than the word?
(dear God, that old dream woke again and stirred.)
Wife
As you love me, you never loved before?
Though oft you say it, say it yet once more.
My heart is jealous of those days of yore.
Husband
Sweet wife, dear comrade, mother of my child,
My life is yours by memory undefiled.
(it stirs again, that passion brief and wild.)
Wife
You never knew a happier hour than this?
We two alone, our hearts surcharged with bliss,
Nor other kisses, sweet as my own kiss?
Husband
I was a thirsty field, long parched with drouth;
You were the warm rain, blowing from the south.
(But, ah, the crimson madness of her mouth!)
Wife
You would not, if you could, go down life’s track
For just one little moment and bring back
Some vanished rapture that you miss or lack?
Husband
I am content. You are my life, my all.
(One burning hour, but one, could I recall;
God, how men lie when driven to the wall!)
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Sonnet: A Man’s Life Is His Wife
How can one be unkind to one’s one wife,
The better-half who shares his joys and grief?
The woman ’hind the success in his life,
Who serves him lovingly though life is brief?
The share of toil she renders is far great;
From child rearing to cooking, loving chores;
She dons the family’s problems as her fate;
Her life gets spent like house-arrest ’hind doors.
How can a man to wife be ungrateful?
His wife’s a shadow of his own image!
No husband good can be to her hateful;
In both his eyes remains his wife’s visage!
How then can man be unkind to his wife?
The better shouldn’t be kept bitter all life.
poem by John Celes
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‘i Do’
Today I’m saying to the girl I’m marrying ‘I do’,
but you know that I’d rather be saying it to you.
I’ve known and loved you practically all of my life,
but soon I’m making someone else my wife.
We promised each other that we would wed one day,
but the opportunities in life never came my way.
You didn’t want to live a life of struggle and pain
and I couldn’t provide your dream of fortune and fame.
You married an older man that you don’t even love,
but has that given you what you were dreaming of?
It seems your eyes are saying that you still love me
and yet you chose unhappiness for the sake of security.
Are you here to tell me that you’re ready to change your life
by divorcing your husband and becoming my wife?
If you can’t follow your heart there’s nothing more to say,
except that my wedding is only two hours away.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Are You a Good Husband?
All married men want to be called a good husband
A good husband is a decent husband
Mr. Husband what you done to deserve this decency?
Has your wife ever referred to you as her good husband?
It is known that the eyes cannot see itself
Unless by reflection. Have you ever asked
Your wife for a performance appraisal
Honey, how did I perform last year?
On a scale of one to ten, one for very poor
Ten for excellent, how did I perform?
Your wife may think you are now on new drugs
If you receive less than six, you need to
Start fence mending before it is too late
A good husband sees his wife as his friend
A nice husband treats his wife as his lover
A decent husband regards his wife as a soul-mate
You should anticipate what your wife
Will need before she makes any request
By the way, have you ever bought a gift
For your wife without an occasion?
Do you have to wait for her birthday?
To inform her that she is very special to you?
Do you have to wait for your wedding anniversary?
To tell her that she is the best thing in your life
When last did you talk to your wife in-laws?
When last did you visit your wife in-laws?
What have you done to be called a good husband?
Ask for performance appraisal on a regular basis
Remember, if you make your wife happy
You will get happiness in return
poem by Julius Babarinsa
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The Men Who Made Bad Matches
'Tis the song of many husbands, and you all must understand
That you cannot call me coward now that women rule the land;
I have written much for women, where I thought that they were right,
But the men who made bad matches claim a song from me to-night.
Oh, the men who made bad matches are of every tribe and clime,
And, if Adam was the first man, then they date from Adam’s time.
They shall live and they shall suffer, until married life is past,
And the last sad son of Adam stands alone—at peace at last.
Oh, the men who made bad matches, and the Great Misunderstood,
Are through all the world a mighty and a silent brotherhood.
If a wife is discontented, every other woman knows—
But the men who made bad matches keep the cruel secret close.
You may say that you can tell them, by their clothing, if you will,
But a man may seem neglected, and his home be happy still.
You may tell by their assumption of conventional disguise—
But, the men who made bad matches, I can tell them by their eyes!
I have seen them by the camp-fire, where a child’s voice never comes,
I have seen them by the fireside, in their seeming happy homes—
Seen their wives’ false arms go round them, and the kisses that were lies—
Oh, the men who made bad matches! I can tell them by their eyes.
I have seen them bad in prison—seen them sullen, seen them sad;
I have seen them (in the mad-house)—I have seen them raving mad.
Watched them fight the battle bravely, for the children’s sake alone,
Like a father who has wronged them, and who lives but to atone.
But it’s cruel, oh! it’s cruel, for the husband and the wife,
Who have not one thought in common, and are yoked for weary life.
They must see it through and suffer, for the children they must rear—
Oh, the folk who made bad matches have a heavy cross to bear.
There is not a ray of comfort, in the future’s gloomy sky,
For the children of bad matches will make trouble by-and-bye.
And though second wives be angels, while the first wives were the worst,
No second wife yet wedded makes a man forget the first.
Ah! the men who made bad matches think more often than we know,
Of the girls they should have married, in the glorious long ago,
And there’s many a wife and mother thinks with bitter pain to-day,
Of her giddy, silly girlhood, and the man she sent away.
Life is sad for men and women, but the thoughts are bitter sad
Of the girls we should have married, and the boys we should have had.
But we’ll part now with a handshake, if we cannot with a kiss,
And bad matches may be mended in a better world than this.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Nasty Life
My friend
Married newely...
Fight to fight
Every his wife...
Wife did not
Interest in sex...?
Sex is not
Impreess wife
With husband...
So...
Fights going...
One day crying...
One day lough...
One day sad...
Life move boor
With boor...
My friend wife
Run for mohter's house...
My friend woory...
Pray for god...
Temple to temple...
The family problem is
Not sable...
Months are going...
Years are going...
My friend wife did
Not come...
Move the life...
Husband one side...
Wife one side...
It is life...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Everything I’ll Ever Need
For My Wife
I’m writing this poem to tell you
Just how much you mean to me
I’m writing to say I love you
Sentimental as that may be
Your more precious than any gift
That I will ever receive
Your my morning, my night
And the air that I breathe
You’re the mother of our children
A friend when I’m lonely
Your strong when I am weak
Your everything I’ll ever need
You’re the ray of sunshine
When I wake each day
With fingers gently on my brow
You take all my troubles away
You’re my friend, my companion
But most all your my wife
You are what I live for
Each and everyday of my life
Your everything good in my world
And much, much more
There are no words to say how much
Your just everything I’ll ever need
29 Feb 1996
poem by David Harris
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The old man and his wife
The old man and his wife,
Lived at the end of the old street,
At the intersection of colour and life,
The intersection where smile and laughter would meet.
Theirs was the most lovely couplet,
And oldest indeed the street had ever know,
But their love was as new as the water droplet,
Seen at the dawn….on grass fully grown.
Often…..he would fight with her,
So that she`d get angry with him,
So that he`d get to pamper her,
And then she`d blush and smile back at him….
Everything went on fine until,
That day………when everything changed,
The day his wife went motionless and still….
The day when…….it just rained…..
From then the old man was on his own,
Trying to get in terms with the loss…
Of the most beloved…..for long he`d know,
His life had now gone for a toss….
With red and water….filled eyes…..
He keeps looking here and there,
He keeps searching for his wife…..
In vain….he finds her no where...
What……..will now suffice? ?
For the loss of his true love knot?
He keeps…..missing his wife…
His wife…..whom he loved a lot….
The slot of silence……now he has brought….
Endlessly he stands…..and weeps at her grave…
And also the next plot he has bought….
For besides her…he wishes to be laid…
poem by Aditya Ghatpande
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Rest Of My Life
Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life you can find me postin on my porch
Tokin my pipe-Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life see some people gave in but I aint
Given up the fight Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life find me old postin on my porch
Tokin on my pipe Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life see Im in love with mary jane im
Gonna make her my wife
Sometimes I wanna get high travel up away to the beautiful skies
Float away and hope to never come down hope to see the day that I never come down
But what goes up is always bound to fall
Ill Im trying to say is that I live my life raw
Im gonna smoke week the rest of my life and give all I got till the day that I die.
Ya!
Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life you can find me postin on my porch tokin my
Pipe-Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life see some people gave in but I aint given up
The fight Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life find me old postin on my porch tokin on
My pipe Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life see Im in love with mary jane Im gonna
Make her my wife
When I look in the mirror I feel so low
I see my eyes and I feel the glow
I know I can make do lets bless the sole
Show my love and let myself go wow
Everybody knows that I spit these flows and I drink my beer smoke my weed
But my heads in the clear
Show your love respect the one your dreaming of.
Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life you can find me postin on my porch tokin my
Pipe-Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life see some people gave in but I aint given up
The fight Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life find me old postin on my porch tokin on
My pipe Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life see Im in love with mary jane Im gonna
Make her my wife
Let us plant trees that bear positive fruits that enlighten our minds to the deepest roots all
The way to the core where the soul can stay true where I can walk free with a joint in my hand
And I can plant plants right upon my land help em understand these are natures laws my creator
Had visions in the things he saw yeah he saw yeah my creator had visions in the things he
Saw yeah
Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life you can find me postin on my porch tokin my
Pipe-Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life see some people gave in but I aint given up
The fight Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life find me old postin on my porch tokin on
My pipe Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life see Im in love with mary jane Im gonna
Make her my wife
Now when the love is lost and your spirits are low
The worlds closing in around you got no place to go
Done all that you could to ease and please another soul
And in the end youre in the cold, another sad story told
Thats why I make my own decisions on how Im liven
Try to get by with the knowledge that Im given
Cant make me believe cause a tree is a tree
And when my soul bleeds, the color that Im spillin is green
Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life you can find me postin on my porch tokin my
Pipe-Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life see some people gave in but I aint given up
The fight Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life find me old postin on my porch tokin on
My pipe Im gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life see Im in love with mary jane Im gonna
Make her my wife
song performed by by Kottonmouth Kings
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ron
He has lost the inspiration of his life
And he must grow old without Annie his wife
They had been married for twenty two years
And memories of her still has him near to tears.
She was forty six when she passed on two years ago
And she did not live to see their grandchildren grow
Into young adults it was her wish to see
Her first great grandchild baptized but it wasn't meant to be.
Without his beloved Annie who had the 'heart of gold'
Ron in his early fifties must grow old
She was his soul mate and to him remained true
And together love and happiness they knew
Theirs was a true love that lasted till the end
She was his heroine and his dearest friend
And one as good as her he could not wish for to meet again
And the memories with him always will remain
Of the beautiful woman with brown eyes and nut brown hair
To laugh to her came easy she was always free of care
Their wedding photograph hangs on his bedroom wall
And she will remain as his greatest love of all.
Life will never again be the same for Ron
But without his beloved Annie he must carry on
She was the inspiration of his life
His lover and his soul mate and his wife
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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