The Back of His Head

I was visiting my folks, we had had a nice day,

I’d been married three weeks, had been living ‘away’.

“There’s just one thing I hate about marriage,” I said.

“When he goes out the door. It’s the back of his head.”

“I wish he could stay at home always. With me.”

Dad smiled, “You’ll be glad when he goes, Hon, you’ll see.”

“With your work and your chores, he’ll just be in the way,

You’ll be glad for the back of his head every day.”

Now I have to admit often Dad had it right,

With his bits of advice and his splendid insight.

But, frankly, in this, well Dad’s counsel was flawed,

(I still marvel at this ‘cause that really was odd!)

And for forty-one years now, my Husby’s left home,

Dressed in his best, with his hair freshly combed.

His tie in its place and his briefcase in hand,

With footsteps so sure, his position, he’s manned.

And each day as I stood there, to bid him good-bye,

I have to admit, there were tears in my eyes.

But happiness bloomed when, once more, he’d return,

Worn out from his day, as our living, he’d earned.

But something quite different has happened today,

‘Cause this was the last time I’ll send him away.

Today, he retires. Yes his work life is done,

And from here on I’ll spend my days with ‘HoneyBun’!

So, Daddy, I know that you’re watching from ‘there’.

I know, your advice you dispensed ’cause you cared.

But in this you were wrong, Dad. You have to agree,

I’m happy ‘cause Husby’ll be home now, with me!

Mondays are for Poetry!
My good friends Jenny and Delores agree with me!
Head on over and see how their week is starting!
You'll be glad you did!