Remarried Poem by john coldwell

How many times we went to bed at night
Not daring to think what might…
We let the barren years unwind
Put out of time, put out of mind

Half a loaf, always wasted
Half a life, never tasted
Semi detached, but never homely
Always busy, always lonely

Until we slid on the soft vows of love
And they fitted like, well, a glove
As we knew they would, hand in hand
To pass to each a wedding band

At last at home and well respected
Now our lives can be inspected
Middle aged, with joys unlikely
The secret fires yet burning brightly