No cloud has dimmed the sunshine of our life,
Though now and then I’ll seize a rolling pin
And playfully I’ll clout her on the dome
Just to preserve domestic discipline
And demonstrate who’s master in our home.
At times she’ll hurl with well-directed aim
A platter or an iron at my bean.
These slight attentions keep romances green
And keep alive the hymeneal flame.
On Sunday, when the evening lamp is lit