The Stetson Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

Stan is a dapper man
mild and shy to some degree
with a spirit that is constrained...
sometimes it yearns to be free

Ada, his wife of thirty years
has a tendency to pout
when dutiful doing the dishes…
she would rather dine out

With no children to rear
they have time to be refined
To the symphony and galleries
they go… harmoniously combined

There came a day when they parted
Ada was off to see her far away sister
Stan slowly drove to the center of town
A small hat shop beckoned… Hey, Mister

His hesitant hand opened the door
As a splendid display of Stetsons
took his shallow breath away…
his heart beating to the cadence of drums

His attention was anchored by one
tanned topper with a glistening feather
Is to your liking, a voice asked
Stan beamed like the sun in fair weather

Undeterred by the three digit tag
the purchase was made… no need to wrap
Stan left the shop feeling like a new man...
as though being released from a trap

Upon Ada's return, Stan shared his treasure
to which his beloved shrieked with dismay
His delight was suddenly snuffed and charred...
Stan sadly and obediently hid his Stetson away