The Right Provisions Poem by Mark Heathcote

I don't care what you do to avoid delivery
My heart must-be-crated and exported to you
Whatever the export cost
You're going to make all the right provisions
And cut all your losses.
I don't care what you do next it's already decided
I'll marry you when we've kissed
And I've flown like a bird from my bough
Whatever it takes, I'll take your hand
And together in time, we'll grow old, yes, darling
You're going to make all the right provisions
And I'll take your hand and later
When many other lovers have become estranged
You'll ruffle your fading, thinning hair
And thank the day, the lord, you took a stranger in
Who, later rocked-a-manger, you later called an angel?
That came to you when you once more prayed
Whatever the export cost
You're going to make all the right provisions
And cut all your losses.
Darling, with all who I am, I make you this promise.