Rob Berretta


Rob Berretta


My neighbor built his wife a wishing well

Out behind the deck he built her too

Well that wasn’t quite my level, so I settled on a table

To be my lover’s monument to you


But disaster struck as the drawers were all stuck

And I had to give up after a while

I must’ve glued too much, and it wobbled to the touch

So my masterpiece just joined the firewood pile



I must admit it’s true

I’m not so handy here for you

I’m hardly Mr. Perfect, but I’m yours

Well I don’t have much to show you, but I’ll move the earth below you

And the secret to our happiness endures


To show you how my love grows deeper still

My presents get more meaningful each year

But today I was unable, with just my broken table

To even give a simple souvenir


You just smiled and laughed as you marveled at my craft

Saying this isn’t why you chose to marry me

That there is no need to measure all our joy in earthly treasure

Or keep score on every anniversary



But still I want to show you where my heart stands

Though my wishing well’s not something to display

So I’ll play you this song that I built with my own hands

Just close your eyes and wish your dreams my way



© 2012 Rob Berretta