on puffy clouds of pleasure, we do live;
with not a care or problem within sight!
and for this fairy-tale what would we give -
to gallivant about in sweet and light?
the truth is cotton cannot be the truth;
there is no land so soft and white and clean.
these lives of ours are troubled and uncouth
with only glimpses here and there to glean.
the cotton which we dream of in the copse,
is full of holes and comes apart with ease.
that wise, old eli tamed the king of crops,
but as he showed: it takes hard work to please.
it's how we use what little comes our way
that gives our marriage ample joy each day.
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