MR. BUTLE

Mr. Butle was an older guy.
He'd hardly ever smile,
head always bowed and stature slumped,
most of his words were full of bile,

Yet everyone thought well of him,
he had that valued "Midas touch"
so most overlooked his grumpy ways,
his grumbles, frowns and such.

His wife always dressed to the hilt.
For an older lady she looked good
yet her smile seemed somehow cold
as she walked about the neighborhood.

If Butle laughed, well just a glance
from her would put him in his place.
(respectable and fun don't mix)
her presence kept joy from his face.

Then she grew sick and became dead.
How would he get by without her?
Some said he'd join her pretty soon
a sentiment with which all would concur.

I saw old Butle a week later
walking tall and fancy free.
All those frown lines now reversed
smiling at everyone he'd see.

Mr. Butle was an older guy.
Joy came upon him late in life
for happiness can seldom grow
in the shadow of a shrewish wife.