I DON’T know how many Valentine’s Days have fallen on the same days as my bi-monthly column for this paper in the 13 or so years I’ve been doing it, but I don’t ever recall actively acknowledging the fact and it’s definitely about time I did. So I shall be dedicating the majority of today’s column to poems for my wife Robina. She deserves it, not just for putting up with me for 28 years, but in acknowledgement of the incredible amount of brilliant work she does in her role as a local councillor here in West Sussex. 

But before I do so I must pay tribute to Joe Solo, the life-force behind the We Shall Overcome collective, whose wonderful new album Punk Rock Prepared Us For This has just been released and has already covered its costs and started making money for WSO and other deserving causes. It’s an absolute stormer, a beautiful, diverse collection of songs with a host of guest performers from the WSO community and a lovely sleeve from Vagrant Art. 

Joe’s right – punk rock did prepare us for this, because we won the argument against racism and bigotry in the ’70s and ’80s on the streets and in the pubs, and now we’ve got to do it all over again. Rise Up, Stay Positive — his themes reach out to us all in such difficult times, and this is indeed an incredibly positive album, packed with great tunes and arrangements and lovely fiddle from Rebekah Findlay. My favourite track is Different Like That, because I’m different too, and confident and self-assured as hell about it. Not everyone is, and Joe is there for us all. A cracking, human, inspiring album from a wonderful bloke.   

Now here are my Valentine’s poems to Robina from the last three years. 

2024 
Early Morning

Roses are red 
Violets are blue
You need a wee wee 
I need a poo
You can go upstairs 
I shall go down 
Yours will be yellow 
Mine will be brown

2025
Late Night

Roses are blue
Violets are red
Into your cleavage
I put my head
Fondle your buttocks 
Play with your bush
I love you my darling 
Don’t give me the push

2026 
All Day

Roses are red
They grow on twigs 
You’ve got two meetings 
I’ve got two gigs
Poet and councillor
Mr and Mrs
Divided by lifestyle 
United by kisses

And now I’m on a roll:  here’s our Silver Wedding poem from last October…

SILVER DAY

You picked me up to take me to a gig
And at my door you picked me up for life 
We caused a stir, but it was soon resolved: 
You quickly changed from roadie into wife 
And I from freelance poet to family man – 
A gloriously unexpected change of plan.

So here we are now on our silver day.
Two forceful personalities combined!
Not one moment of boredom all this time 
A load of healthy disagreements, mind… 
And when we argue we do it in style
And love each other even more the while.

And since her election in 2021 Robina has said this so often in her role as a local councillor that I decided to make it the title of a poem.

DON’T JUDGE ME BY MY HUSBAND

“Don’t judge me by my husband.” 
You say that lots these days!
A tribute to our marriage
And proudly different ways. 
You’re quietly on the inside 
Dignified and polite.
I’m loudly on the outside: 
Both fighting the good fight.

I have my reputation
And you, my love, have yours.
Punk poet and the councillor –
Same building, different doors.
These words to all who meet us
On our joint path through life:
Don’t judge you by your husband, but 
Please, judge me by my wife.

Happy Valentine’s Day to Old Romantics everywhere.