Sixty years have passed.
My body, once supple and new,
Has regretfully decided
There are some things it now cannot do.
A handstand is one
Because my shoulders ache and creak,
I cannot shout at all and sundry,
Due to cancer my voice is weak.
I cannot sing, recite this poem,
Or perform lunges at the gym.
The knees tell me no more jogging,
And my eyesight is growing dim.
My back goes out more than I do,
And my hair is going grey.
I can’t sleep at night,
But doze with ease during the day.
Slimming club lady tells me to watch what I eat,
No more cake and less red meat.
She’s a meanie,
One day I’ll fit in that yellow bikini.
Yeah, I’m going to do it
I’m going to get fit.
I owe it to myself
To stop me being a miserable git.
I’m going to love myself,
All the aches and pains,
All the wrinkles and lines,
Before my enthusiasm wanes.
My body is a temple
I’m going to worship,
The lumps, bumps and cellulite,
That dodgy old hip.
You only get one body,
And I’ve got mine.
I can’t get away from it,
So I’ll treat it like vintage wine.
You’d best drink me now
Before I shuffle off.
I’m aged and mature,
But I’ve got a bit of cough!
About the Author: https://about.me/stevie_turner/
Amazon page: http://bookShow.me/B00AV7YOTU