Read Time:51 Second
As I scramble the letters
Into lines
I pined for the Pat of my life
Always as active as the Bat
As I clambered up the vine
I knew it could be made of
Fine wine
Either nine or more
All will be mine
Her name is Pat
What a diminution
Of endearment
A quite befitting Nat
That only reserve for
The wingless angels
Her name is Pat
Though not so fat
Quite cute and tender
Her catwalk so appetizing
Her way of life so satisfying
Though her name is Pat
Her path of life
Leads to lasting joy
From the gate of Heaven
To the gateless gate of Earth
What a sorrow the host
Of angels must have felt
I borrowed her skills to make
My hat
Queen of endless beauty
You’re all it takes to be
Whole
This is a poem so lovely
And pat
Presented to one whose name is PAT.
