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| Presumably not distracted by kids singing Let It Go |
My Muse! My Comrade! Wreathed in loving glory,
words fail to scale the height of my esteem!
A bildungsroman now
is this, my story:
from callow youth to half a winning team.
It’s thanks to you – in every case before me –
my judgement’s more considered, less extreme;
romantic poets might murmur “I adore thee!” –
but sometimes rhymes run deeper than they seem.
This ain’t no corny Keatsian teenage yearning,
to seem profound (and get you into bed) –
more recognition that this guy’s still learning
to be the man he promised when we wed:
a partner for your honour, sure together;
a ward ‘gainst civil strife and chilly weather..
AWB
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