He was a donkey. Stubborn is the best word to describe his actions.
Reason and common sense went by the wayside, he was a man of reactions.
Knee jerk responses to things that irritated him, and one must watch his ire.
To cross him was to meet consequences that would be dire.
Yet he was a man that all knew where he stood, right or wrong,
He was not the type to woo the girl with fancy actions or song.
But there was Mabel, pretty as a picture, and the plain opposite in manner,
He was the impulsive one, she the calculating planner.
She set her sights on this guy and before you could count to ten,
He was in deep love, it must be some form of Zen.
Now fifty years later on a farm that flourishes with crops,
He produces their food, but makes money from selling hops,
Six children produced and follow in the footsteps of these two,
Some went to college, some went to other towns, and time flew.
And the rough and tumble man, he is an old version of the younger self,
Put all that negative crap away and put it on the shelf.
There on the porch you can spot two rocking chairs swaying back and forth.
One goes back and one forward, the rhythm of tork,
But note the hand of the man holding her hand delicate and tight,
For she is the solid rock formation of this union that holds the key of might.
He has lead a life of heavenly bliss,
And it all started with their very first kiss.