Another poem based on a famous verse, treated with total disrespect. Do let me know what you think
(Sonnets From The Portuguese XLIII, Elizabeth Barrett Browning: number 25)
How do I love you? Let me count the ways.
I love you when the mundane morning chorus
Of the prattling radio awakes us
And you mine the duvet likes it’s the End of Days.
I love you when you leave me at the station
To walk home in the rain, dripping clothes and oaths.
I love you for understanding what no one else knows
In my silences and wordless impatience.
I love you for laughing at oft-told stories
Never querying my many variations.
I love you for ignoring my aberrations
And allowing me my unworthy glories.
And if grief comes to me, dripping slow
I will love you more than you will ever know.