Darling, Don't Be So Combative Poem by Mark Heathcote

Darling, don't be so combative; that's all I ask.
Loving you at times is a fruitless task.
Nevertheless, I love the bones of you.
Warts and all, that's all I can say.
Everything falls into disarray and decay.

Nevertheless, I'll love the bones of you.
That's all I can say now until I die.
You might drive me crazy and make me cry.
But, baby, I'm your girl, and you are my world.

Darling, don't be so combative; that's all I ask.
Because loving you at times is a fruitless task.
But darling truly I don't mind building palaces
Out of ruins 
I've never minded finding
A broken heart requiring fixing,
Help or rewiring to make it start anew.

Darling, don't be so combative; that's all I ask.
Darling, kiss me and let us chinwag.
Till we grow old and die of laughter 
Or chilblains without a spark to light a fire. 

Baby, who ordered those funeral flowers 
Those token tears, those violets in the spring.
For the sadly departed
Darling, don't be so combative;
Everyone needs a piece of heaven.
Darling, don't be so combative; I'll shake off my blouse
in your summerhouse and laugh after every rainstorm with you.