Sunday, January 24, 2010

Toast to the Lassies, 2009

She's as Irish as Guinness, potatoes and lambe.
Hae ne'r been a fibber, nor liar, by damne:
Amazing at IMs which clock one o' nine;
Really enjoys good food, good friends, and good wine.
Of this one thing, sure, she's as good as good gets,
Nae, all here adore her, and e'er will yet.

Lest we forget our fine lady from Sterlingshire town,
E'er one of us acknowledges her poetic renown.
She hails from Te-has, that's how they say it down there,
Lo! Now she begraces our Commonwealth fair.
If any should doubt, her dog's name is Tucker,
Even, as Luke knows, this dog's quite a ... FFfunnydog.

Perhaps our sweet neighbor, an award should win,
An award about patience and waiting for HIM.
Many corners are mitred, many walls could be painted,
Each only takes ten months, and by then she's been sainted.
Lest anyone say that her home isn't warme;
An abundance of creatures abide on her farme.

Just wait for our Judy and her Indian faire,
Urdu, and Paki, and Hindu to share!
Delight in her curries, and amaze in her chutney.
You need only bring Rolaids; the next day will be ag'ny.

But my heart, it belongs to one lass at this table,
Each day, she proves she's both loving and able.
Can knit, can sew, can run things at the church
Kvetch if you want, but she even makes hooch.
You can have all the others, the others by far,
     but I've got me my lady and she'll ere by my star.

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