Atlas - a poem by U.A.Fanthorpe

Most love poems give you roses. This one gives you WD40 - a rust remover. In seventeen quietly devastating lines, Fanthorpe makes the case that the most heroic love is the kind that shows up, checks the insurance, laughs at your terrible jokes, and holds the whole rickety structure of your life - holds it up with pride. Like Atlas held the sky. A gentle paean for the responsible lovers....Atlas by U.A. Fanthorpe There is a kind of love called maintenance Which stores the WD40 and knows when to use it; Which checks the insurance, and doesn't forget the milkman; which remembers to plant bulbs; Which answers letters; which knows the way the money goes; which deals with dentists and Road Fund Tax and meeting trains, And postcards to the lonely; which upholds the permanently rickety elaborate structures of living, which is Atlas.And maintenance is the sensible side of love, Which knows – what time and weather are doing –  to my brickwork; insulates my faulty wiring; laughs at my dry rotten jokes; remembers my need for gloss and grouting; which keeps my suspect edifice upright in air, As Atlas did the sky.