Today’s poem

I asked the wife the other day If the thought of getting old and grey Was a force for good or bad. She said she didn’t really care What colour was her ageing hair, And that it didn’t make her sad. She also said she didn’t care That my hair is no longer there, Leaving just the skin. She said she thought I looked a treat, Though different from when we first did meet, She told me with a grin. That was over half a century, I recall just what you said to me, That our life we now will share. So it doesn’t matter much to me, After all these years, now what I see Is far more than just hair. I see a man I still adore Who couldn’t love me any more If his hair was long and dark. I see a man who still makes me laugh, Who’d fight a dragon on my behalf, And still retains that spark. I see a man, as he’s buying his ticket To see his England play Test cricket Beaming like a child. I see a man who can easily cry, A man who has a tear in his eye, On news of a child reviled. She said these things with a cheery smile, And though life at times has been a trial, We’re the luckiest people alive. So I opened a bottle of our finest wine, Then drank to this lady for just being mine. I hope we continue to thrive.