Didsburydad's Blog

From the not so mean streets of M20, blog about being a dad, Didsbury and dealing with parental confusion

A little Valentine’s love…


Valentine’s Day is a minefield. A wrong call can lead to a night or two on the couch (that’s the naughty step for big boys). It’s all about context and understanding your partner’s take on your “original” sense of humour, romance and inappropriate use of language and intention. Didsbury Wife’s not a Morrissey fan which cuts out a large avenue for an 80s-bred teenager and this year I aim to be careful that my status as New Twin Dad, New Man and Nominee for 2013 Bottle Steriliser of the Year are not compromised by a dodgy reference (or two). My historical research one year led me to write the medieval line,
“I love thee like pie, if thou wert pudding I would eat thee.”
What Didsbury Wife read was “Oy pudding”

We are lucky enough to count the Poet Laureate as a local. So for Didsbury Dads, sons, partners, aspiring partners whatever your intention, instincts or inclination here is some foolproof poetry to get things going.

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue…
… I brought it on eBay but lets pretend its new.

The ever-popular footrub

The ever-popular footrub

Can I compare thee to a summer’s night
… Thou art welcome relief after a disappointingly cloudy day.

My Love is Like a Red Red Rosé…
Briefly enchanting but not much use when the babies are crying.

You are more beautiful than…
The realisation that the babies have slept through the night and so have you.

I love you more than…
The tasting stall outside The Cheese Hamlet on a Saturday morning or toast with peanut butter at The Art of Tea.

Andrew Marvell knew the value of an elongated Mullet way ahead of Lovejoy.

You are more welcome than…
Peace, an empty inbox and a decent commentary on 5Live.

These can help. But if you really need to crank it up get Metaphysical and go for Donne, Crawshaw or Andrew Marvell. They knew how to write a love poem and how to make the recipient feel that they were the only person in the world. As Marvell wrote in “The Definition of Love.”
My love is of a birth as rare
As ’tis for object strange and high
It was begotten by despair
Upon impossibility.

Good luck. Good writing and if it all gets too much read some Mike Garry (godisamanc.wordpress.com) and be assured that if your heart is honest and your intentions true the right words will follow.

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