To Merry or not to (Marry) #PoetryMonday

Hey hey!

Here is another scribble from a six year old diary I found the other day.

To merry or not to (marry)

I hope-
To one day fall down in a muddy pothole,
Dirty all my clothes,
Have few bruises maybe,
Get laughed at,
Have a stranger pull me up…
And help tidy myself.
We would fall in love
Not at the first sight
Nor at the first touch
But at the very first awkward laugh.

I hope-
To get married in a rush
And let the people talk of us.
Laughing at us two fools,
‘The ones who got married in a rush’.
Then we’ll settle in the woods,
Close to the streams you love.
Carry the furniture ourselves
And that would be ‘our honeymoon choring’.
We will have children
Lots and lots maybe
Love them all a little too much,
And let them be anything they imagine themselves to be!
We will go on to grow rugged,
Grey strands will begin to show,
Wrinkles shall appear
Eyesight may deter.
But our love will remain constant.
And when our grandchildren ask us
How we fell in love,
We would laugh
And I shall say,
‘I fell down in a muddy pothole’.
Or be a spinster instead,
Make my best friend’s children call me mama
And if they ask me why I never got married,
I shall simply say
‘I never fell down in a muddy pothole’.