Dave Bonta's "Gifts" reads like a modest inventory of what life has handed the speaker, and the joke is in what goes on the list. Alongside the expected items, a wife, a house, music, there is "much trouble in mind," "some cheese," and a "patent on ignorant talk." Troubles sit right next to treats, and nothing is ranked. The speaker seems to accept it all as the same kind of gift, delivered by a "strange providence" that is hard to understand but hard to resent.
The tone is dry and a little self-mocking. Claiming a "patent" on ignorant talk suggests the speaker is poking fun at himself. Yet the ending is tender: bread and butter arrives "after I was a-bed," a small kindness that comes unasked. The mood is wry, humble, and quietly grateful. Judging by the old-fashioned phrasing, it has the feel of a folk saying, which makes the gratitude seem simple and earned rather than showy.