This last weekend I discovered that Mom had a certain treasure in her keeping, and I even got to borrow it: Great-Grandpa Boone's Bible, the second one he wore out during his ministry. It's fascinating, the perfect image of an ancient, mysterious book. It has a very worn dark-leather cover, largely indecipherable handwriting in the margins and inside covers, and some of the pages in Luke consist almost as much of scotch-tape as actual paper. Even better, tucked inside the binder are various papers: short writings on topics like how to read the Bible, letters to my mother, a letter to my father during the divorce, and even a poem. That last is the one I'm aiming at with the title of this post. The Boone men are notorious for their awful poetry, and this is no exception. But the joke is one of those that absolutely delights me while making most other people groan. Here it is:
I've heard a lot of sweet pet names
That men do call their "gal"
Like "Honeybun" or "Sugar Loaf"
Or "Dolly Pots" or just plain "Pal".
But now comes one that takes the cake
One I've never heard before
Patti's boy friends call her "Hinges"
'Cause she's something to a-dore!
Oh my goodness, that was funny. By the way, Patti is what my mom was called when she was younger. She claims nobody ever actually called her Hinges, which of course I believe. But I can certainly understand how Grandpa Boone wouldn't want to waste an idea like that. I wish I'd thought of it.
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