Poetry and philosophy,
They make a pretty pair,
She with the jet black flowing braid,
He with the eureka hair.
On every day of her children’s births,
And every Mother’s Day,
She pens again, new verses sent
In emails deep with night’s delay.
As he stands and types,
The books he writes,
She cooks the dinner with delight,
Vegetarian feasts, beyond belief,
Especially considering her daytime briefs,
Extending long into the nights,
As court appearances bring their fright.
Supporting each other,
Dividing the labor,
Travelling the globe,
Not leaving living ‘til later,
Seizing the day,
Doing admirable work,
Balanced with ordinary play,
Movies, TV shows, reading in bed,
Keeping in touch with relatives and friends,
Aging courageously until the end.
Poetry and philosophy,
They make a pretty pair,
Not without their squabbles,
But a duo of utmost care,
Still small town embedded,
Today, forty-three years wedded,
No easy feat,
Let’s not forget it!
