My love is in the garden
she sings not to me
but praises the flowers
in sweet melody.

My love is in the kitchen
(when is she never busy?)
humming Home Sweet Home
' Darl, this is mum's recipe'.

My love is in the drawing-room
at her favourite embroidery
' Your socks have holes
   I've mended-they are ready'.

My love and I are in bed
she asks: 'Do you still love me?'
I look into her warm tender eyes:
' You're immortalised in my poetry!'