So Easily Pleased
From a glass of Cote du Rhone,
Stemmed from your place of birth,
Or a framboise tart –
The taste of salads
And hummus garlic that stains your breath
That I so dread to kiss -
I know you have to put up with my nicotine lips,
But it’s me that does all the moaning.
So easily pleased by life’s gentle moments,
When for me it isn’t enough to savour,
As you rest contented by 10.30pm,
Even on a holiday.
I wish I could sleep so easy.
You have so much to give,
I did so too for a time,
But age and lifestyle has rusted my charms,
Yet you go on giving,
while I groan about living,
Without whims and needs.
You’re happy with your jewellery gifts,
You’re happy with family and fraternity,
And sweet conversation,
Black tea and cakes.
You don’t need highs
And you love the quality of champagne as a treat,
Or the English ale and curry,
But you’re a lightweight,
While I try to get higher than a spire
Or crash down with sombre nerve.
You keep positive
And enjoy life for what it is and what you make it.
I wonder what you see in me.
I suppose opposites attract for real
According to univseral laws.
You seek hot love and passion
Of something I once gave,
And never went astray to find it, (I hope)
Who now has sadly lost it.
I wonder if you will still feel the same way about me
When I droop past 50, (not far to go),
When I can’t afford Viagra.
Perhaps it’s French resolve and
J’nai se qua.
So easily pleased by so little.
I’m lost trying to figure it out.
And now you threaten as you reach 40
That you will make me sweat
For my crimes
And wants and needs,
As you go crazy
Following suppressed dreams.
Will you really follow through though –
You that is so easily pleased?
In some ways I want to dare you,
But secretly I’m worried as hell.