Too seriously; I tend in my journey
too easy to focus on the duty
the facts of what’s in hand
the doing of a thing

So precious to see the nonsense
appreciate the humour
the madness
in everything you’re tasked with
by this modern world

So freeing to have a sense of silliness
draw a cock and balls on your mortgage application
scribble a cape and tights across the undertaker’s pamphlet

Life can feel like tumbling
through grinding grey machinery
without a wry eye on the daftness
smirking at whatever crazed fool conceived this
and those who choose to ride it all so earnestly

Your satire, your playfulness
your dark sense of what’s appropriate to joke about
perfectly timed
skillfully placed
to punctuate the blandness
hacking at the horrors
laughing through
the banality of the day to day

Without humour we are robots
in some automaton tableau
zipping from thing to thing
from job to job
just ones and zeros
bobbing up and down

Every plant in our house has its own voice
its own personality
they have conversations with our animals
all channelled through your hilarious sense of things
you turn dull mornings into bright theatre
just never call it quirkiness

You remind me to see the funny side
keep pulling at that silly string
you puncture my pomposity
with a most gentle needling
you’re the best medicine
you’re my prescription
and, among so many other reasons
I love you for this