By Russ Farrell
My wife is afraid of the deadly brown snake,
Afraid of the garden one, too.
Just seeing, she shudders, when shivers, she shakes,
She kicks up a hullabaloo.
Our two oldest daughters, they learned from their ma
Her fear of the temper of Eve”
They’d shiver and shudder and scream if they saw
A wee, tiny snake in the leaves.
Long hours I’d take their fears to abate
With reason and calmness and quiet.
I made fun of the snake, and swore if ‘twere baked
I’d eat me a snake every night.
My gal number three, faith, not a scare,
Would pluck up a snake from the lawn.
Say, “Look, Daddy, see, I’ve a snake on my knee…
Now where have my big sisters gone?”
I sat reading away, all the kids out at play,
They rushed in with a well-covered can.
“Hey Daddy, you say you’d eat snakes every day,”
And they slammed on the big frying pan.
My wife, she arose straight up through her clothes,
She yelled, miles of neighbors will swear,
She screamed forty “OHS” and twenty-six “NOS”,
“Get then damned slimy snake out of here!”
My tale is quite true, but between me and you
I’m glad it was she ran them out”
For I fear them, too…I quake through and through
When the slithery things are about.