North of 60 - Iambic?

Last we saw our heroine she was naked, cold, and frying her socks,
Her chocolate brown hair turned to fried bright blond locks.
Working all day, learning pressure and swedges,
Oil, gas and water, meters and wrenches.
She was driving through swamps and warding off bears,
For the first time in her life, didn't care what to wear.
Only three t-shirts she had, and on this rotation -
"Wear three twice a week, and a clean on Sunday - for celebration".
Her neck it was tanned, her nails they were dirty
Waking every day at 6, in bed by ten thirty.
Although she was busy, one thing she did bemoan
Her love was oh so far away, and she felt so alone.

Quickly he rode, like a knight dressed in white,
Flying all day, riding the Greyhound by night.
She returned from work one day, found him on her stoop,
Sweeping her dirty body to his in one strong swoop.
He brought her lipbalm and new socks, Starbucks by the cup,
Made breakfast each morning before she got up.
He cooked her buffalo steak and held her by the fireside,
Welcomed her home from work each day, with arms open wide.
To him she introduced the Stanley Cup and Sleemans Beer,
An on game nights the trailer erupted in cheer.
Every night she layed beside him and prayed,
That he would forget his job and home,
And with her he'd stay.
But their time ran short, and the days ran away,
And soon he departed to the dear U.S.A.

She missed him the worst in the evening, at night,
But it was tempered by her heart taking flight.
Literally.
Morning and evening on a chopper she flew,
Through the hills and the swamps, marshes and slews.
Soon the lot of them moved into the camp at Haig,
A camped far North where all the workers lived and stayed.
Here is where we rejoin her, swimming in the lake,
Where she'll tell you some more stories of triumphs and mistakes.