Death, Taxes, .... and Red Sox
Well, a week to bury my wife’s daddy,
While young and old, not a good laddie.
Hell he raised while a young buck,
E’en out of a tree kid brother struck.
Ma had called for dinner time
With brick brought down offending tad
Not list’ning to big bro the crime.
For many years, some count almost twenty
He was pillar, church n county plenty.
Skilled electric, yet preferred to farm.
George Jones, he looked and had charm,
Fished, hunted among the very best.
Baseball almost major, but failed a test.
Then the fall, not once but few
Away his good name he did threw.
Poor Ma and poor wife of mine,
Held him out as daddies most fine.
Story did have many a twist
But now is done, a passing mist.
But gave he to me the finest gift
Mixed among his many fits
My wife, a gem above and beyond.
A treasure so rare, so true, so sound.
So among the pain, I thank God clear
To have a wife, a friend, so very dear.
Now taxes ... not his passing but
The call of Caesar as Jesus put.
Render unto him that which is due
But also to God, render unto Him too!
Beware the Ides of March warned the Bard,
How’d he know of this time hard?
Tis no moment, really, I swear.
This, almost my fortieth tax year
With PC, H&R and w-2s’ in hand
In a half an hour I’ll know where I stand.
But what my heart really calls to
Is the Red Sox, "Lord, what’ll we do?"
Two and ten today we stand ...stand?
Not the season we all planned.
But spring is the time of hope and life
So if it seems dead, give chance to ....
Come on Red Sox, ....
Give chance to ....
First it was death,
Then taxes ....
150 games left? My heart relaxes!
For this is baseball, not football, see?
This is a bad fortnight, not a season in quarter three.
With most excellent wife and all our pleasures had
Two sons, back home safe, sound and glad,
I’m ready for the season ahead!
GO RED SOX! GO RED SOX! GO RED SOX!
That never, ever sounds bad!