WordsOut poems by Godfrey Rust  | collection Welcome To The Real World ← 35 of 59 → | home    

Choosing a wife

Choosing a wife is not exactly like choosing
a dog. Look out, naturally,
for bright eyes and well-groomed hair, 

but avoid yapping and a wet
nose. Treasure, though,
absolute loyalty and the fetching of slippers 

after another day’s difficulties; and
choosing a wife is not exactly like choosing
a car. A sporty model, nought to sixty  

in a few seconds and responsive
to skilful handling is of course rewarding,
but understand what you may have to pay 

in running costs, quite apart from
the constant risk of theft—don’t miss
the point, that what matters is  

getting from here to there, and the journey
may be long and unpredictable; and then remark
that choosing a wife is not exactly like choosing  

a house. Comfort is desirable, and room
for growth and improvement,
but do not be fooled by the agent’s  

carefully-angled photographs;
decide instead how it will look
on a wet November evening

with the kitchen demanding a coat of paint
and the kids avoiding their homework,
and consider the work on your part 

needed to make it into
the home you always hoped for;
only then will you realise   

choosing a wife was much more like
being chosen, and when you weigh up
what’s on offer from that perspective 

you will be glad that sometimes she lets love
get in the way of her otherwise
unerringly good judgment.

The poem is ironic. Please don't write in.