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And ours, at last, will be eternal Love!
There’s the old cliché ‘like a hand in glove’.
The perfect fit, or nearly, but we’ll smooth
any small wrinkles in togetherness.
That’s what love does (or should) and you can soothe
our arguments. A pity you can’t press
all the right buttons but some compromise
might see us through the daily bumpy patch.
We get on fairly well. It’s no surprise
my best friend said you’re not much of a catch.
At least I’m not left on the shelf, but wait:
are those a handful of wild oats you’ve sown?
They’re weeds, more like, and in a sorry state.
I think I’m better living on my own.