A few months ago saw the 25th wedding anniversary of my Mum and Dad. Realising that it was probably my duty to prepare a speech, I hastily scrawled some poetry on the train to Blackpool. The following was the result:
Silver
Today’s a special day and so it seems
it falls to me as the eldest to say a few things.
25 years is how long its been
and they met before that whilst in there teens.
25 years.
And if we counted the minutes, some people would faint.
13 million, this woman must have the patience of a saint.
Not that I mean any disrespect to my Dad,
as far as blokes go, he’s not too bad.
The voice of reason, my go to guy.
If I’m down in the dumps, he will always try
not to give me what I want, but to give me what I need
to make me feel better and he will usually succeed.
But if you were to ask him, he would probably adMIT
that without my Mum he would probably be a bit . . . Different.
Behind every good man, a good woman and I stress,
I’m talking about a lioness of a woman and nothing less.
It hasn’t always been easy over the years.
I’m personally responcible for quite a few tears.
Everyone goes through tough times but I honestly feel
that she protected this family like a morphic field.
She never stops, always got her plate full.
I’d like to take this chance to let her know that I’m grateful.
So thanks Mum.
Thanks for all that you have done.
Thanks for steering my path so I didn’t turn into scum.
Thanks for helping my Dad become the mman he is now.
I don’t think many could have done it somehow.
So 25 years, that’s how long its been.
25 years of sharing dreams.
25 years of laughs and screams.
25 years of Keri and Dean.
25 years of “that’s the last time”.
23 years of these escapades of mine.
25 years of always be there.
25 years of someone to care.
25 years that have gone before
And here’s to hoping.
At least 25 more.
