The rollercoaster ride
by cricketjeff on May 24, 2010. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
That reduced him from a poet to a mutterer of sighs.
She was sweet as any nectar and more fragrant than a rose,
Like the purest crystal waters at a meeting of the flows.
After weeks of watching movies and of dinners every night
He began to think her halo may be slipping out of sight,
But, as he became less ardent, she discovered with a shock
That he looked more like Apollo than a London Irish lock.
So they went to watch the rugby and she helped with cricket teas
And her love grew ever stronger with each tender slap and squeeze.
She was ready for a wedding when she started to observe
There were other men around her with an equal vim and verve.
It was Christmas, office party, and a sprig of mistletoe
As she kissed another colleague who had gained a beery glow,
When he noticed that he loved her and she’d make the perfect wife;
He had always been a drummer and she played a tidy fife.
Now I really can’t remember how it happened that they wed,
But there must have been a time when each was in the other’s head,
They then argued over children, over houses, over all
But though each would stumble often they just never seemed to fall.
I have known this pair of lovebirds for a score of years or more
And each time I go to see them one is eyeing up the door
But I know they’ll stay together on their roller-coaster ride,
When one ebbs the other’s flowing on the matrimonial tide.
A “London Irish Lock” for the uninitiated, London Irish are a famous rugby football club and a “lock” is a position in the forwards at rugby. Locks earn their bread with their heads between other men’s thighs and as a result are rarely pretty.