There Isn't Much to Write (about you)

You laugh

There isn’t much to sing about

So you laugh

At my clumsy thoughts

and fearful dreams

of elderly primigravida

You sing

There isn’t much to talk about

So you sing

Through the night

Against the sound of the rain

And the beating of my heart

You talk

There isn’t much to dream about

So you talk

About your big plans

And your odd passion

For feathers and flowers

You dream

There isn’t much to laugh about

So you dream

Of lazy weekends,

Of Tea nights and strolls

And waking up to bacon and rolls

SOURCE

p.s.

I laugh

There isn’t much to write about

So I laugh

At this man under the moon

Making me sing silly songs

And write this pointless poem