I never thought I’d pen a poem dedicated to my partner
now that I’m older and certainly not wiser. I’ll tell you what . . .
I’ve been cheerful as a brat since I’ve settled down under.
Who’s to thank? Dave you should ask? No one else . . .
Just this man Dave, he’s my mate! Yes! Dave’s my mate.
They say it’s fate, mostly rosy and gay our lives tend to sway
To bed, one day “I’ll read,” he’d say check it out, for sure
the book’s upside down anyway! Life’s no hassle, only his sleep’s a struggle, roaring like a lion, he’ll put you out of action.
As a dad, he’s better than good. Our two lads are assured, they’re pampered and secured. Lots of love, full of hugs not short of kisses, let me add. But then again, not faultless is my man. He’ll huff and puff, explode in big laughs, with his tummy full of stuff, threatening to erupt, To the john! quick as lightning he’ll strut! – ? by Marie Rea