My folks, Rollin and Joan, were married 58 years ago today. Throughout the years he has written poems to her (all of us) for one occasion or another. I present one written to her for their 48th anniversary (2001).
"Our Wedding Anniversary"
On our wedding anniversary
I don't always write a poem,
but more often then not,
when my thoughts are on my Joan,
I find myself a musing over
what should or could have been,
and sit down by my keyboard,
or pick up my fountain pen.
My thoughts drift back to an Irish priest
who knew all Catholic girls
would rather marry a man of the faith
than a Baptist boy with curls.
It was like the inquisition,
he stretched me on the rack.
bedazzled by your loveliness,
I could not fight him back.
Cousin Randy fainted dead away,
your sisters threw tons of rice,
no bubbles blown to wish us well,
the reception line was nice.
I remember Milt taking pictures,
someday we'd own his house,
but on this day, in that place,
I became your spouse.
If I thought my happiness ended there,
I was wrong, as wrong as rain
for honey you've made me,
the happiest guy, time and time again.
Oh, I had my share of marriage advice,
from uncles and maiden aunts,
that the sanctity of marriage
wasn't found inside your pants.
We didn't consummate our marriage
on the steps of St. Augustus,
but the way that old priest hounded me,
it'd be poetic justice.
As honeymoons go we tried our best,
to relate to our conjungal needs,
from cabin step we kept the score
while spitting watermelon seeds.
After forty-eight years of sharing our bed,
our family, our life and these walls,
my heart took a leap when you woke from your sleep,
suggesting we go "hit some balls".
I sprung from the bed, combed the hair on my head,
and thanked the Lord for your thoughtful insight.
So, let's do it, let's show them, let's have some fun,
before we get into a fight.
Happy Anniversary Honey!