My Wife Would Often Ask About

My Wife Would Often Ask About

My wife would often ask about

A shift she wore: how did it fit?

Which wasn’t hard to figure out

Had nothing much to do with it;

Because she didn’t want to know

About the thing she wore at all,

But for what she had on to show,

For wasn’t she belle of the ball?

While, if she wasn’t, who was I

To say that she was otherwise?

Since we are not that valued by

An outer fit of shape and size

But for what lies under the skin,

And by a part to see the whole.
By what’s without we look within

To catch a glimmer of her soul.