The farmer and his wife got along with very little strife.
Until one day he came home and sensed her anger rife.
She cried, "Across my Oriental carpet are your tracks of grimy mud."
"This means war, the line is drawn. You'd better stop it, Bud!"
He said, of her complaint, "If I were you I'd drop it!"
"Well, sobbed she, it's hard to clean. You see, I can't just mop it!"
He stomped out, defiant, and let the screen door slam.
"That woman!" he stammered, "I'll show her exactly how riled I am!
On second thought, perhaps, upon a dozen roses I should splurge."
But nixed the urge...
And brought for her instead, a bouquet of leafy spurge!
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