A Whimsical Pair

Mr Kartoffel

Mr Kartoffel's a whimsical man;

He drinks his beer from a watering can,

And for no good reason that I can see

He fills his pockets with china tea.

He parts his hair with a knife and fork

And takes his ducks on a Sunday walk.

Says he, "If my wife and I should choose

To wear our stockings outside our shoes,

Plant tulip bulbs in the baby's pram

And eat tobacco instead of jam

And fill the bath with cauliflowers,

That's nobody's business at all but ours."

Says Mrs. K., "I may choose to travel

With a sack of grass or a sack of gravel,

Or paint my toes, one black, one white,

Or sit on a bird's nest half the night -

But whatever I do that is rum or rare,

I rather think that is my affair.

So fill up your pockets with stamps and string,

And let us be ready for anything!"

Says Mr. K. to his whimsical wife,

"How can we face the storms of life,
Unless we are ready for anything?

So if you've provided the stamps and the string,

Let us pump up the saddle and harness the horse

And fill him with carrots and custard and sauce,

Let us leap on him lightly and give him a shove

And it's over the sea and away, my love!"

Marriage is great.  It's been my salvation. My husband is one of those strong, silent types. The perfect foil for my reactive, shoot-from-the-hip personality.  We are very complementary.  He's methodical, I rush. He's function, I'm form.  He finishes things, I start them.  We're both a bit whimsical.

Poem by James Reeves

Penguin creation by Little Wanna

Photo by me