Pardon me for the subterfuge.
The title seems to suggest a popular john denver song, but nowehere will it be mentioned henceforth.
It’s been a year since we got married.
My my, how time has gone by.
What I mean to say is…
My my, how little I know of her.
I still don’t know her favourite colour.
Hell, I still don’t know mine.
(Sometimes its green)
(She is partial to purple, when it does not rain)
She likes is Italian followed by Mc D’s.(so does most of the rest of the world)
My favourite food…does chocolate count?
Is is considered manly if I like chocolate more than she likes it?
And icecreams…too bad she hates icecreams, except when it is roast walnut.
Perhaps getting married early was a good decision.You get time to grow.
Into each other.
Make space in each others hearts and minds.
I would like to know her like a dog knows people.
I would like to be able to smell out her sorrow,
cock my head askew and understand her tone,
to know from the next room, asleep, when a mood settles over her.
Then maybe, it would make up for me not knowing her favourite colour.
I sang to her, before I left.
Corny, yet sad, in context.
“All my bags are packed,
I’m ready to go…
I left on a jet plane,
not knowing when
I’d come back again”
Bonus material:Context is everything, OAG style.