Smokey Essex cornfields, insects’ pyres

While my husband kissed me in our bed
Our cat would lounge on top and lick his head
No matter what gyrations that cat saw
All he did was pat us with his paws
The happy days of learning how to feel
How to entertain withv spicy meals
Of walking by warm rivers hand in hand
Watching coots and moorhens ,washing pans
Buying an old kettle, then a house
Driving out to Ongar ,stubble fires
Smokey Essex cornfields, insects’ pyres
Driving down the Saxon Cliffs at Hythe
Soft teal Sea,Capel le Ferne, men’s eyes
Happy in a cottage in the wilds
I sang like some small bird, we walked for miles
Kersey where the ducks bathe in the street
Kissing in the hedges was so sweet
Getting our own garden, growing beans
Growing spinach, lettuce and snap peas
Picking our blackcurrants, making tea
Making jam from raspberries. yes please
This proves that when you marry you need pans
Cooking dinners talking with our friends
Wearing jeans and hair so long it flowed
My husband liked to brush it till it glowed
I dream some nights my hair is still like that
And how the cat slept with his paws in it
How his father died and mother grieved
Life is not all positive, we see.
On we went and love was what we grew
Though anger did rise up and strain the glue
First the cat died, then my man went too
Can’t I adopt a beast from Whipsnade Zoo?