Being a handsome man, healthy, educated and debonair too,
Of course, that was years ago, when I wasn’t always running to the loo,
I could handle women, money, passing wind and Vindaloo,
I’d put my socks on, bend down and drink ale without any ballyhoo!
Things would not be like this for long, I knew.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
1959 I visited a fortune teller; one look at my palm and she cried,
I used to be able to handle finances and food that was fried,
Many requests for a girls cuddle were not denied,
Parts of my body had not yet shrunk, shrivelled or dried!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
But now I’m seventy, and getting once again excited,
Although the body sags, and I’m very short-sighted,
With bragging, yearnings and hopes, I’m no longer blighted,
When something is happening, I don’t get invited,
Less hassle and bladder retention you see, I find I am delighted!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
I feared my memory going if you get me drift?
But it went all the same, and my hearing’s gone adrift,
Behind with the rent now, I’ve become a spendthrift,
At least, there’s no more working the graveyard shift!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
Excitement comes more frequently and easier nowadays,
Getting on the right bus, and my spirits will raise,
Getting through the day without setting flat ablaze,
Excitement comes in any forms and ways,
Having the time to just stargaze,
Ready for the end of days!
No Inchcock was harmed damaged or sanitised during the writing of this crap
Getting on the right bus… hey silver linings you know!
Oh, bless you and thanks, Marissa. A bus tale here; Yesterday I knew I wanted the L9 bus to get back to the apartments. I proudly got myself to the bus stop in plenty of time, but it never came? So I caught another bus and had to walk through the park up to the flats in the dark. More excitement you see? Hehehe! TTFN. X
Poor Inchy!