They say romance is dead. But of course we know it’s not, even after centuries of sonnets and songs, rom-coms and tragedies.
Still, that doesn’t mean it has to be predictable.
So here’s the poem that I wrote for my husband on our wedding day. He never saw it coming.
I love you
I love you. Like a Scotsman watching England loves to boo.
I love you like the M6 on a Friday loves a queue.
I love you like Wrigley’s gum loves teenagers who chew.
I love you like reality TV loves low IQ.
I love you like a Swiss man loves his clock to say "Cuckoo!"
I love you like your gender loves the invention of 'man flu'.
I love you like late Christmas shoppers love Boots 'three-for-two'.
I love you like a pissed-off American loves to sue.
I love you like the Union Jack loves red and white and blue.
I love you like Arthur Wellesley, and Abba, loved Waterloo.
I love you like flour dumplings love a sumptuous pot of stew.
I love you like pineapple-pushers love to agadoo.
I love you like a toddler loves a game of peekaboo.
I love you like Pampers loves babies who… aren’t toilet trained.
I might just love you even more than you love your morning brew.
I love you – and I guess that’s why I’ve gone and said: "I do."
“You bloody crazy woman.”
Mark Roberts, hubby
“This lady knows words and their power...” – see more testimonials.