Honey Bear recently informed me that I never write about him in my blog. I then said something kinda harsh and to the effect of him not doing things that are interesting enough to write about. I was only kidding, but that was mean, and not true... so Honey Bear, please accept my apology and this poem just for you.
He knows what I'm thinking from the look on my face.
He's up for my adventures no matter the place.
His kisses and love'ns are gentle and sweet.
Sometimes he shaves the hair off his feet.
His muscles are rippling, his biceps are strong.
He's big enough to admit when he's done something wrong.
But that is not often , and when he's right there's one rule,
A southern boys stands his ground, he's as stubborn as a mule.
His voice, deep and low, with a hint of a lilt.
Oh ya, did I forget, to mention he's built.
He likes yoga, Pilate's, kung fu, krav maga,
Aike doe, swords, and parkour.... maybe a little nin'jya!
He likes it, he hates it, he loves that old job,
But not when he's working with a lazy old slob.
He's so good with the our kids, so patient and true.
He's one of those men who are good, there are few.
He knows his bible, holds it close to his heart.
He know his Savior, from him never will part.
He can shimmy and shake, and really cut a rug.
And one thing I know... he loves his young bug.