My Wife Poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph

We sat together in her bedroom
With my 34-year-old daughter
To keep company, and be a witness
To the exchange of views.

It was satisfactory, you may say;
We spoke without getting angry,
Or feeling judged, or condemned.

She was nice, explained that my desire
To please others, and put her down
Is the culprit here. She went back
Ten years to some Airport – waiting
On our way to Europe, when
I said something which hurt her
Because of my harsh tone, and my interference
Between her and her friend accompanying.

She now says, I might call it jealousy
To suit my ego,
But it is my desire to please
All other women and put wife down
Is the culprit, she repeated.

I felt happy, she means well.
She said it, I thought, with a desire
To make up, and improve relations.
I know now she is interested in helping,
And our love has not fled overhead
To live only among the stars:
At 58, she is pretty and charming.