Friday, August 10, 2007

Valentine’s Poem 2003

You help me in the kitchen after dinner,
And never leave me struggling with the delph,
You say that I’m not getting any thinner,
But you ate the tin of biscuits by yourself.

When landing, hall and stairs need decorating,
You never make me cope with it alone,
You say I can be quite exasperating,
But you ate the tin of biscuits on your own.

Your antique knowledge really is impressive,
In company, you’re always full of fun,
Your happiness would cheer up a depressive,
But you ate the bleedin’ biscuits one by one.

You make sure that my hair is short and tidy,
And make me change my t-shirt when it’s smelling,
You always watch the Late, Late on a Friday,
But you ate the tin of biscuits without telling.

You mock the way my hair is thin and greying,
You slag my knees for being old and creaky,
You throw away my socks when they are fraying,
But the business of the biscuits was quite sneaky.

You’re very, very careful with our money,
Investment-wise, you’re very slow to risk it,
I know that you no longer think I’m funny,
But God help me if I ever want a biscuit.

You always play your Nat King Cole quite loudly,
You bite your lip when Everton are playing,
You wave your shaky shamrock very proudly,
But you ate a tin of biscuits without saying.

It doesn’t matter how I might address you,
You’re not amused by silly poems and ditties,
And though I’m always trying to impress you,
You’d rather have a large tin of McVities.

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