Perfection was her middle name,
Perfection was her game.
From afore the sun did rise,
Until after the sun did set.
This woman who should be sainted,
Did care for me and our children.
Always had time for this or that,
Always ready to help them out.
Fifty-eight years we were wed,
And not many of those days were bad,
For Mrs. Perfection did indeed,
Keep me always pacified.
Never yelling, never screaming,
Always just easy flowing,
Good times and bad it seem,
Never changed her reactions.
But now she is gone,
And to her I would like to write a song,
Call it my tribute to her perfection,
She was the center of my affections.
© Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)
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