To The Groom From His Mother

Dear (son's name),

I've never found it quite so hard deciding what to write.
In fact, for weeks, it's true to say, I've been up half the night.
And that was how it used to be when you had just been born.
Afraid that if I closed my eyes you'd disappear by dawn,
But then, of course, you didn't go; you grew into a boy,
And I spent time berating you for saying things like, "Oi."
Your life was full of Star Wars troops and dinosaurs and planes.
Your clothes were out of kilter with your awkward height/weight gains.
The only foods you seemed to eat were baked beans and fish fingers.
Why is it just the silly side of memory which lingers?
I want to give you good advice, to be sincere and true
Now that you've found the best of girls to love and marry you,
But all that comes into my head and all I seem to see
Is who you were, not who you are or who you've yet to be.
Perhaps my words can still assist despite a subtle jest.
Remember, when it's getting cold - your pants outside your vest,
Always look to cross the road; don't run when you can walk.
A temper tantrum never works, far better just to talk.
Make sure to do your share of chores and eat up all your greens.
The rigid man breaks in the gale, the clever man just leans.
The last thing that I want to say is, please, just love each other.
It conquers all and I know best.

Yours sincerely,
Mother