Front:
Fletcher's
Family
Philosophy
No. 31
A love have I, and she is fair,
And oh so sweet and true;
The sun turns gold her burnished hair,
Her beauty ever new.
With smiles she greets me at the gate
As love shines through her eyes;
And, incidentally, I'll state
She bakes most lucious pi es!
Down through the years I never failed
To marvel at her voice,
Amazed what miracle prevailed
To make my love her choice.
She speaks and I can understand
Why I have no regrets
She has no peer in all the land
For cooking crepe suzettes.
She walks in grace and majesty,
A queen of queens alone;
The wisest man is dumb lest he
Has known what I have known.
Philosophers from west to east,
To learn what love can do
They only have to taste, at least,
Her famous beef ragout
So, let them have their movie stars,
Their Playboy bunnies curves,
Their shish kabobs and caviars
And junk that Maxims serves.
I much prefer the Quich Lorraine
That she whips up so well;
The gay, fast life is not my game
Besides, it costs like hell!
Copyright 1965 by Harry Wellesley Fletcher
Back:
An original poem by
Harry Wellesley Fletcher
one of a series previously published
in The Carmel (Calif.) Pine Cone.
Place
CARD
POST
Stamp
Нere
Printed in the U.S.A., Pub. by H. W. Fletcher,
54 Varni Road, Watsonville, California, U.S.A.