Holy Gold

In a corner snuggled up against the cold,

I find myself with a woolen sweater.

In the house it begins to hold

Me in the warmth that’s better.

Soda crackers and jokes I told

Until the former gets soft, wetter.

There’s a dankness in this basement, mold,

I seek to eliminate it to the letter.

But this is the home that was sold

To me, the go-getter.

I boast but try not to brag for fear I fold

And must go under more than one fetter.

The glow of the lamp that’s so old,

It needs to be changed by the fire setter.

It emanates a holy gold

That’s so bright for my wife. I’ll go get her.