She Swore

She swore that she would love him
for better or for worse.
From the wedding carriage
to the funeral hearse.

She swore that she would love him
for richer or poorer
and wealth is measured many ways;
money's not important for her.

She swore that she would love him
to have and to hold
but his mind is playing tricks.
He doesn't remember growing old.

She swore that she would love him
in sickness and in health
but this damned disease is stealing him
insidious in stealth.

She swore that she would love him
to love and to cherish.
To watch him wither while alive
leaves on happy years a blemish.

She swore that she would love him
until death did them part
and although she does and he still lives
it's with a broken heart.

She swore that she would love him
til his bones were naught but dust
and alone she works to comfort him
and doesn't want a fuss.

Garlic

The garlic-smelling-supplement-couple.
She shuffles.
He carries the bags and grumpfs.
Always in knitwear.
Hippies, but not in the romantic sense.
They are:
Sensible sandals
They are:
Weather-worn skin.
They are:
The happily-ever-after
of the couple made of
The protagonist's best friend
and the caricature of the heavy with a heart.
An ex-runner and her hirsuitor.