My lover and I
We share the competitive spirit. We cheat at cards
and keep our halves of the garden separate.

Every year the village fêtes come round
And we'll be judged, and, more than that, judge each other,
On who's the better horticulturalist.

But when it comes to love we are softly spoken
And we tend each-other's borders,
Unite in unseemly affection.

There are those who like their hedges
Trimmed into boxes, and their Tupperware nested.
And others who feature in the annals of Parish Councils

But if tonight, neither my lover nor I have made the bed,
And no one's ironed sheets or put pillows into cases,
We'll zip two sleeping bags together

And watch The Learning Zone on BBC2,
Fluff Spanish phrases together, and argue cosmology,
About which our ignorance extends to the farthest reaches.

My lover and I -
We have shared unremarkable lives. We have not travelled,
Nor grown much else but vegetables,

We have never eaten Thai food, nor read Euripides,
Nor ventured further than the county bounds,
But we never nested Tupperware.

And while some might sneer
Could there be better peace to make than just to say
That we've remained happy together?