What dreams were made of


Home
With you and me
The two of us
Enough to be a family

How long have I waited
Not for a white dress
Or a knight in shining armour
Or for a red poofy skirt
Or to throw puffs of rice

Neither did I long for the yellow tattoos
Nor for the henna to darken
The big special day
Never trumps the normal decades that follow
Not for me

What I wanted was
The weekly trips to the supermarket
Fights over monthly expenditure
Small wins over who gets the remote
And then sleeping halfway through it

My dreams were full of
Sunday morning drives
Followed by a simple breakfast in a corner stall
Then came the lunch
Cooked with last night’s leftovers
And a deep fulfilling nap

No romantic roses made the cut
Nor did vows of forever after or the impossibles
I only wanted the daily routine
A partner to witness and share
The meagre vagaries of life

Was it too much to ask for?

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