He reads her the headlines
As she makes the tea,
Then they tune their set in
to Radio 3.
The washing up’s something
They both do together,
Then he’s off to the garden
In fair of foul weather
While she hoovers round.
Does the dusting and sings
(It’s hard to get out of the
Habit of things)
By 11 it’s time for some
Coffee and cake, (The kind that she’s only
too happy to bake).
They’re sown to the pub
By opening time;
His is a pint, hers
a small gin and lime.
And so the day goes in
Small moments they share,
And old age is a pleasure,
Not something to bear.