The Coffee House

We can choose our wives
But a child is a gift
No choice – no voice in the matter
In the beginning who knows what we got?
A Mother Theresa or a Mad Hatter?

You try to love, defend, and feed
As long as life allows it
But sometimes things go wrong
And we sing a bluesy song
But ultimately . . . we carry on.

Yesterday we drove to town
To a special meet
That went incomplete
So we went for coffee instead
And after all was said . . . there was nothing left to dread.

Yesterday I realized how fortunate I am
To have been blessed (and not just stressed)
With the little ray of sunshine given me.

We can choose our wives
But a child is a gift
No choice – no voice in the matter
In the beginning who knows what we got?
A Mother Theresa or a Mad Hatter?

As for me – I was so blessed that today ( 51 years later)
I was able to walk into a coffee house with a best friend
Who I am free enough with . . . to drop the walls
And bare my heart . . . too.

That is a gift beyond measure . . . a heavenly treasure.

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