Sonnet #90 by FisherKingKQJ
By a jaycee we were quickly married,
I the divorcee, he the singleton.
Things are on the boil, he's unharried
By my grown children or grandson.
I'm bucolic, whereas he's homespun
A dry sauterne sipping gourmet cook;
The kitchen utensils I used to shun,
The steel gas oven, act as our love nook.
He's adapted to the marital hook
Without my prejudice and it's a thrill
To refer to him as a husband. It took
A cellar full of merlot to ban that chill.
Inattention was the mistake I made;
Out of muslin bags we draw marmalade.
{3D interactive chorus:}
Inattention was the mistake I made.
Inattention was the mistake I created.
Inattention was the mistake I materialised.