I'm An Old Iron Widow

| August/September 1997

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!