OK as a bit of fun then could you write a poem about my Mum and Dad, they are called Eleanor and Brian and are both in their late 80's they were both born in the 1930's Dad used to go over to Mum's house on his scooter and he thought she came from a rich family but she didn't, which came as a shock to him. They got married in 1962 and although they don't do that much together they go dancing every weekend, they have gone dancing every weekend for the last 63 years! They especially enjoy doing the jive and back in the 70's they won a bronze medal for their jiving prowess at a Butlins holiday camp in Filey. They are quite a competitive pair and both pride themselves on looking younger than their years. Mum does the front garden and Dad has the back and Mum's room is the kitchen and Dad resides in the front room, they meet up at meal time and bedtime. Maxine is their favourite child as she is very successful then they have a son called Gary who is less successful. Despite not having much in common Eleanor and Brian have danced through 63 years together.
The Rhythm of Eleanor and Brian
In nineteen thirty's cradle, two souls came to be, Eleanor, graceful, and Brian, wild and free. He'd zip on his scooter, a hopeful, young lad, To her house, grand and stately, making his heart glad. He thought she was wealthy, a fortune untold, A shock when the truth of her modest roots unrolled!
Sixty-two, they said "I do," a promise so clear, And though paths diverged through each passing year, Their separate domains, a quiet truce they'd keep, She, queen of the kitchen, secrets it would reap. He, lord of the front room, his armchair his throne, Meeting for meals, and when the day's light was flown.
The front garden, Eleanor's touch, vibrant and bright, The back, Brian's domain, beneath sun and moonlight. Competitive spirits, both keen to impress, Looking younger than their years, they'd readily confess. Maxine, their darling, the star of their brood, While Gary, well, Gary, was simply less shrewd.
But come Friday evening, a magical call, The dance floor awaited, embracing them all. For sixty-three years, through laughter and strain, They've jived every weekend, again and again. The seventy's shimmer, a bronze medal gleamed, At Butlins in Filey, a jiving dream streamed. A testament to rhythm, a perfect, synced pair, With moves sharp and vibrant, defying all care.
Though different as daylight and deep, midnight sky, Eleanor and Brian, beneath a shared eye, Found their true common ground where the music would play, Dancing through decades, come what may.
I hope you and your family enjoy it! They sound like a remarkable pair.
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