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A Tribute to the Ladies

Ms Stewart and the Ghost

Written for Burns Night 2008

A classic tribute to the ladies
should always conclude with a toast;
The gentlemen raise their glasses
To the women they love most.

It’s their health to which they drink.
In Europe, with universal health care,
It’s no problem, you would think;
But in America, it’s more important there.

With private health insurance risky;
And unaffordable for many;
Your medicine will be just whiskey;
And your nurse will be your old lady.

So ladies, please stay nice and healthy;
it’s you us men depend on.
We wait too long a doctor to see;
You’re the ones to nudge us on.

Our hands are tough, but we do whimper;
When we get a little sliver.
Begging, please don’t hurt our finger;
As you pull with tweezers; we’ll shiver.

And cutting cucumbers too hast’ly;
We put a gash in our own flesh.
A band-aid quick! It looks too ugly;
To see own blood, so red and fresh.

And when we catch a cold or flue
We really can get miserable:
All day in bed; just feeling blue;
Begging service – we’re unbearable.

So ladies, please stay strong.
We need your help and no one’s other.
But, if he’s too much, there’s nothing wrong,
To take the phone and call his mother.

Allow me now to tell a tale
Of a lady and her husband’s heart.
They lived up North in_a Scottish dale;
And their tartan was that of Stewart.

An old castle was their home;
With haunted towers, high and cold.
One day, Ms. Steward went up alone;
And found a chest, locked and old.

She found the key, unlocked the lid,
Opened the chest with curiosity
To see what treasure it had hid
for longer than a century.

Ms. Stewart let out a loud shriek;
A ghost appeared, transpar’nt and white.
This she really didn’t seek;
On this mysterious, dark night.

The ghoul, in a voice that makes you quiver;
Said, “You have freed me from my tomb.
Therefore, I do promise to deliver
Three wishes madam, just for you.”

“But, one condition I must declare;
Needs to be observed for men.
I know this really isn’t fair,
But he’ll get your wish too, times ten!”

“I fully understand,” said she.
“My first wish is – sorry I’m vain –
To be the number one beauty.”
“Your husband will be no longer plain,”

Explained the ghost. “He will be
ten times attractive more than you.
Don’t you worry that maybe
Other women take him away from you?”

“No!” was her fearless retort.
“For there is no one that can contend
With my beauty for his heart.
He will be mine until the end.”

“My second wish is also grand;
It is money I desire.
Be wealthiest in all the land.
There’s not much more that I require.”

“Oh!” exclaimed the magic ghost.
“You’ll be richer than Rowling;
And the Queen, who has the most.
But, ten times more owns your darling.”

“That’s no concern for me,” said she.
“Mine is his and his is mine,
For our estate is shared, you see.
Financially, we’ll do just fine.”

Ghost asked, “Your third wish, finally?”
“There’s just one more thing I lack,”
Said Lady Steward seriously,
“And that is a small heart attack.”

Reading this poem at the
Burns Night, February 2008