Husband Waiting

My wife she smiles and smiles upon my sins –
I drink too much, and swear, and fool around
With cars all day; but when the game begins
I’m there to cheer for Knick or Cub or Brown.
All this is good – but there, I know she waits
Above the sink, or in our marriage bed,
As if some magic waits on opened gates
When some enchanting incantation’s said.
But here I am, no magic waits for me
To take me from my sins or from my couch;
I am but what I am – why can’t she see
That, yes, I’ll rise again, only to slouch
Towards the frig to be refreshed by beer,
And win or lose it draws a nagging fear.