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L. B. Strawn

Hearts

Mary and I play the game of Hearts
With a couple named Adam And Eve.
I get so mad I could throw some darts
Because they cause a terrible peeve.
Some time they give me the Queen of Spades
Ninety nine time out of eleven,
Causing me to throw some escapades
That could keep me out of heaven.
Of course it’s a game of cutthroat,
Ev’ryone playing for their own score.
I can affirm, the chance not remote,
That Mary, my wife, often gets sore.
This is a game where the lowest score wins,
And I win at least seven times out of eight.
This causes a lot of guffaws and grins,
Ending up with me feeling great.
And many times I have won with zero,
Causing them to create a terrible scene.
One might say that I’m not their hero,
Causing their blush to be envious green.
One time Eve was very distraught,
Where are the cards? I was supposed to add ‘em.
I spoke very glibly so as not to get caught,
Didn’t you know? Adam had ‘em, Madam!
This is all electronic, you understand!,
I just imagine what they’re saying,
So I guess I’m throwing underhand----
I’m the only one alive who is playing!!!!