A
poem
about
relationships...
Many
many
years
ago
when
I
was
twenty
three,
I married
a fine
widow
as pretty
as could
be.
This
widow
had a
grown-up
daughter
With
hair
of fiery
red.
My father
fell
in love
with
her,
And soon
the two
were
wed.
This
made
my dad
my son-in-law
And changed
my very
life.
My daughter
was my
mother,
For she
was my
father's
wife.
And then
things
went
from
bad to
worse,
Although
it brought
me joy,
I soon
became
the father
Of a
bouncing
baby
boy.
My little
baby
then
became
A brother-in-law
to dad.
And so
became
my uncle,
And that
made
me very
sad.
For if
he was
my uncle,
Then
that
also
made
him brother
To the
widow's
grown-up
daughter
Who,
of course,
was my
stepmother.
My father's
wife
then
had a
son,
Who kept
them
busy,
on the
run.
And he
became
my grandson,
For he
was my
daughter's
son.
My wife
is now
my mother's
mother
And it
makes
me very
blue.
Because,
although
she is
my wife,
She's
my grandmother
too.
If my
wife
is truly
my grandmother,
Then
I, by
rights,
am her
grandchild.
And every
time
I think
of it,
It simply
drives
me wild.
For now
it seems
I have
become
The strangest
case
you ever
saw.
As the
husband
of my
grandmother,
I am
my own
grandpa!
