A simple Christmas love poem

Three years with been
together, it’s a love
of ups and downs.
I know that’s been told before
in many liftetimes;

little horse on a merry-go-round,
there’s someting still innocent
there.

As usual we’ll buy a tree,
take it home,
decorate it with our memories;
little drummer boy on a string,
there’s still something innocent
beating inside.

Visit your parents one year,
the next reside with mine,
raise a glass to the next time;
if we were a travelling thing,
we’d be a small yacht
perplexed by the wide ocean.

It’s only a thought, but I’m happy
to be with you once again,
there’s still something innocent
with us.