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Marriage is a strange tradition
A wicked bag of tricks,
Some call it the seventh sense
That destroys the other six
The first three are heady years
To flowers and dreams belong,
A potent cocktail to enthral
Before one hits the prong!
Sisters, brothers, neighbours, friends
Do marvel at it all,
It’s the calm before the storm
Then one hits the squall
Men laugh at your follies jolly sure
Does help extend your life,
But should you at her expense
She’ll use the butcher’s knife
Nothing that you say thereon
Then pins her faith in you,
She’s the master of the house
Remember to take the cue |
