I'm An Old Iron Widow

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419 South Illinois, Conrad, Montana 59425

I wrote this poem about five years ago while my husband was working on the restoration of a 1930 Case L tractor. I am sure many wives can relate to the 'old iron bug' that seems to take over a husband's mind as soon as he hears the first 'pop' of a flywheel engine. My husband has been a subscriber to GEM for years and looks forward to future issues.

'Oh, she's a good ole' gal,' he says, his eyes lit up with pride.
'A real beauty, ain't she?' he asks. His smile is three feet wide.

I think he's talking about me his wife and I almost start to blush
Until I realize that the 'She' he means is a pile of iron and rust!

Yes, my husband has the 'old iron' bug and I fear he will never be cured.
Since he started this hobby of his, oh, the things I have had to endure!

Driving with him is a risky matter when he's in 'engine-finding' mode.
He looks behind every tree for treasures and forgets to watch the road!

When restoring an old tractor he spends long hours in the shop.
Building, grinding, tuning, painting it never seems to stop!

So I keep his meals warm for him and remind him to stop and eat.
He lets me see the progress he's made the tractor now has a seat!

When the project is finally done, revealed in all its splendor,
A fully restored old tractor, from the radiator to the fenders,

My husband smiles at me and says, 'Now I can take a break
Let's take a drive in the country maybe go to the lake.'

As we drive along the road I think now I have my husband back.
But wait what's this he's spied half hidden behind a shack?

He slams on the brakes, (we almost hit a tree!)
He runs over to the shack and I hear him yell, 'Whoopee!'

For there sits a pile of iron and rust just waiting for him to mend.
Looks like he's found himself a new treasure

HERE WE GO AGAIN!!!