I knew a man called Slattery,
He was full of flattery,
His words seemed equipped with the buttery
That he used to run an Eatery,
He took himself and I to the Presbytery,
Where he placed a ring so glittery,
To start a wedded bliss with gifts from the lottery,
But the hard work was to come; the good marriage mastery.
All for two in this mystery,
At home and work moulded together like pottery,
In our new roles and serving each other and guests without jittery,
We conquered the pitfalls of a young couple and had no effrontery.