I once knew a lady from Seattle.
When she stole my heart,
I was a horse without a saddle.
With long blonde-brown hair
And a devilish grin,
She smelled of baking
Powder and cinnamon.
That's no jest,
She bakes the best,
Though kisses even better
(On the nights we find a sitter.)
Oh, she'll ring your bell,
But, alas, gentlemen never tell.
Six years wed
The wild joy of...
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