Remembered dimly what I’d said
last night, that one remark
could well have shocked her, maybe hurt,
but would she cry hot tears
about emotions that I stirred
or deep and ancient fears?
I had been mean to her again,
it’s always when at work
that supervisor idiot Ben,
who’s quite the bloomin’ jerk,
keeps riding me, his hobby horse,
all day including lunch.
And in the air the word ‘Divorce’,
well noted by that bunch
as failing in my sacred duty
‘don’t bring your work home to this house! ‘,
so said my little scrumptious cutie,
(while anger did expand her blouse) ,
thus she had made her salient point,
yet men don’t seem to learn so quick.
So when you file a truly joint
through thick and thin and always stick
a tax return, and have some kids,
it’s slightly late for a revision.
Plus, come, let’s face it, use your wits,
it wasn’t your decision,
your destiny made introduction,
she’d been selected by the gods,
you sat there, waiting for the suction
that would attract with splendid odds
a pheromone affinity.
Your brain would be somewhat corrupted
to recognise divinity
in her alone. In short, you copped it.
Unhelpful thoughts, newly adrift.
And still, I felt the teardrops fall.
My spirits needed one big lift,
I’d make her happy, that is all.
My hand reached over, light of touch,
I placed it on her lovely thigh,
my words would never mean too much,
that’s when she asked ‘Why do you cry? ‘
That night was long, we talked and talked,
and in the morning put on jeans,
went to the river, walked and walked
and spilled the last of all our beans.
And now and then my love will say
‘remember that strange night,
in nineteenseventy, in May,
when after that big fight
you sat in darkness in our bed
and felt the tear drops clearly,
when you were down and very sad.
And cried? I loved you dearly
the night you had your little cry
it’s when my doubts did fade.
And ever since you’ve been my guy,
my God, we’ve got it made! ‘

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