Who is This Man In My Life?

Respect I get that just once in awhile, I am the lowest of receiving the very word. When it's loving time, 'Hon, i respect ya, let's make love', Doh, here we go 'gain, my love is needed t'nite. 'Kay, hon, what do you need' 'just a lil bit of lovin' 'ahh, thanks, hon' Backs are turned once more for two or three days, i'm washing for days, scrubbing the dishes, pots and pans, then go out in the cold white, to aide him with the heavy logs, I do all the liftin', while he holds his saw, kind of like makin' love, eh ladies? Breaking out a sweat, a heavy hoister lands on my shin, then he throws a piece at my other shin, i go to the warmth solace out from the cold, warm up my toes, pain thaws up both my shins, then i wash the pile of laundry clumsily strewn on the floor, 'long the hall way. throw em in the sudsy water, 'nother set of dishes set for the washing, heave in, heave out, i meet him in the hallway, then meet 'gain, we meet 'gain, no 'i love yous', no need, we can guess, i guess, or imagine the words above our moments. i ask myself, 'who is this man?', did i get mixed up at some honeymoon market?' ha, the children are home. 'Hi, daddy!, oh, so that's who that is. Written December 24th, 2001 © on Dec 23 2001 11:24 PM PST   0 • 8