Monday, 11 March 2013

My Mother's Day poem

The husband has always fancied himself a Poet. In fact, that is one of the ways he wooed me when we were 'courting'. A romantic by heart, in my teens I always dreamt of marrying a Philosopher or Artist and escaping to Paris, living hand to mouth in a small attic apartment surrounded by books, overlooking the Seine. I imagined walking hand in hand along the Seine, drinking wine in smokey bars, listening to Jazz in underground bars, frittering hours away in dusty second hand bookshops after heated political-philosophical discussions at Les Deux Magot.

Alas, none of this was meant to be. Just as well really as dreams do not often turn out to be as you desire. Instead I was to meet a funny, intelligent, gorgeous guy who works in media. He has a fervent love of the arts and culture, though he works more on the finance side. He definitely does have a unique talent for writing, having dabbled in the past in various forms. So here is his rather touching (though a little graphic on occasion!) poem to me from Matilda:

To my darling Mummy
I lived in your tummy
Though I nearly tore you to your bummy
And that wasn't very funny.
Since then you have shown me the world
And made me yours.
Keep leading me, teaching me and opening doors
you are always supporting me encouraging me
always be around so that one day you will see me in my graduation gown.
And one day when I have children of my own
I hope to raise them the way you've let me grow.

Matilda xx