NOW WE ARE SEVENTY FIVE
In more civilised days we might have appeared
on Wilfred Pickles’ radio show
‘Have A Go!’ and when he asked our age
and we told him he would say, ‘Seventy five,
ladies and gentlemen!’ and they would applaud,
and, before he asked ‘What’s on the table, Mable?’
and instructed ‘Give them the money, Barney!’,
he would ask how long we had been married –
more applause – and then he would ask us,
in his warm, BBC Yorkshire voice,
for the secret of our years of wedded bliss.
Now, would we have said, ‘Many a cross word,
mutual disrespect, satire, irony,
and a shared appetite for strong spirits!’
or merely told the truth? We have been
lucky. Love defines us.
Note: first published on Facebook July 7th 2018
Ashen
July 20, 2018Can’t compete 🙂 Loved, but haven’t been lucky. Still, ten years and a beautiful human being born was worth it.
Pat Rogerson
July 22, 2018A beautiful poem, David, and, like you, we have been so very lucky.
Margaret Stather
July 25, 2018The poem really made me smile knowing you both as I do – you are indeed lucky x