My Knight

My knight in his not so shiny white armour.

His stead, a dusty noisy ute so filled with junk n gunk

I’m forced to ride side saddle.

I lay on the couch ears aching for the rattle that can be heard growling up the road minutes before his arrival.

He sweeps in,

Gathers the family in his arms,

Pushes me into the shower then bed

Takes over.

And I lie in bed listening to the clatter and chatter that is my family.

Learning to accepts its messy, clanging imperfections

and drift in to the sweetest longest 8 hours rest I’ve had since bubba’s birth

Five and half months ago.

AND in the morning, to think,

He had the nerve to THANK ME as he poured my coffee and gave me a plate of pancakes.


  1. […] Amelia Carson – poet, artist, mumma, link sharer, communicator, supporter, amazing woman *breathe* wrote this lovely piece about her husband, My Knight. […]

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