I gave her choccies day by day
And flowers night by night,
I always let her get her way,
Though sometimes I was right…
I gave her watches, gave her rings
And bracelets now and then,
I gave her oh so many things
And would, of course, again…
If you saw her, you'd understand,
She's oh so very cute
And though she's got the upper hand,
I just don't give a hoot…
For when at night we kiss farewell,
Her lips are Heaven-sent
And they're the reason I can tell
I'm much more than a frent…
Denis Martindale June 2016.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem