Sense Sonnet - Acher

 Picture of My Dear Wife

My dear wife and I, tourists, are.

Paris' fanciest restaurant be

Where we're off to. Why take a car?

A short walk according to me.

My dear wife's dressed in finest style,

Wearing the fine fur I gave her.

But summer heat, she does not smile.

Farther walk than I thought for sure.

My dear wife stops and poses for

Her picture that I want to take.

Impatient she looks more and more,

At last yelling, "For heaven sake,"

"Please take the dang picture, my sweet,"

"These new shoes are killing my feet!"