I was writing a poem

Love Light and Lonely Hearts

You were watching me

From our marriage bed

With a smile on your sleepy face

 

I was trying to ignore your lovely breasts

Because this poem was important to me

I only write poetry on Tuesday mornings

You asked me a surprise question

What is a world without love

 

As I turned around to answer you

I spilt my coffee over the bedroom floor

You were the only witness and skipped

From the bedroom the wet room to find a mop

And to this day the poem remains unfinished

 

 

Stan and Jane