A wistful wife’s woes
As the overseas husband tows
the dicey dollars, as they crinkle
cushioning, the comfort without a wrinkle
to count the days or the coins;
as each rolls by, the wait to rejoin
endlessly empty, the bought-out luxury
lavishing on every whim, without parsimony
yes, the bundles fatten, during every incoming
the whimpering wife puffs up, her pride notwithstanding
to flout the riches, the money that flatters
the twinge of loneliness, tucked in her tiers,
who would know of her irking ire
far away like the island under the summer fire!
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