One day we'll be dressed in finery,
One day we will hear the applause,
But now, going over and over the lines,
Rehearsing's just one of those chores.
The lines are no longer witty,
The whole thing is feeling quite stale,
Maybe this play is a bit of a drag
And we are all bound to fail.
The room isn't very exciting,
The hours are seeming to drag.
But oh what a thrill when we get on stage
And the play is 'in the bag'!
*
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UP TO NO GOOD!
It has been my observation
And my due consideration
That the human body's best left well alone!
And I'd like to send a caution
To these experts at contortion!
Don't you think your act is somewhat overblown?
For, one day, you will be fifty,
And you won't look quite so nifty!
And you'll wonder why your back is feeling sore!
Later on you will be eighty,
(Maybe somewhat over-weighty!)
And you won't be doing press-ups any more!
Then along will come arthritis,
There may even be phlebitis,
All resulting from this foolish undertaking.
And you'll rub on embrocation
Just to ease the situation,
But I doubt if it will take-away the aching.
Now, take someone such as me,
Indolent as one can be...
In my youth I couldn't even catch a ball!
Couldn't run and couldn't jump;
I was even slightly plump!
And I haven't any aches and pains at all!
While those friends who were so sporty,
Sort of wildly tennis-courty,
Are chuntering away about their twinges,
And, in the illustration,
You see a situation
Which is doing awful damage to the hinges!
Now contortion may be fun
But it's not for everyone,
And most of us are better off in bed!
My message to all youth
Is the fact that it's the truth.....
No good will come from standing on your head!
*
It has been my observation
And my due consideration
That the human body's best left well alone!
And I'd like to send a caution
To these experts at contortion!
Don't you think your act is somewhat overblown?
For, one day, you will be fifty,
And you won't look quite so nifty!
And you'll wonder why your back is feeling sore!
Later on you will be eighty,
(Maybe somewhat over-weighty!)
And you won't be doing press-ups any more!
Then along will come arthritis,
There may even be phlebitis,
All resulting from this foolish undertaking.
And you'll rub on embrocation
Just to ease the situation,
But I doubt if it will take-away the aching.
Now, take someone such as me,
Indolent as one can be...
In my youth I couldn't even catch a ball!
Couldn't run and couldn't jump;
I was even slightly plump!
And I haven't any aches and pains at all!
While those friends who were so sporty,
Sort of wildly tennis-courty,
Are chuntering away about their twinges,
And, in the illustration,
You see a situation
Which is doing awful damage to the hinges!
Now contortion may be fun
But it's not for everyone,
And most of us are better off in bed!
My message to all youth
Is the fact that it's the truth.....
No good will come from standing on your head!
*
2 comments:
Brenda, you are SO prolific! I've very much enjoyed my romp through your poems, from Revenge (ouch!) to Rehearsal (been there!), Road Rage (what a waste, hey?) and Up to No Good (can't give up my tennis though!). Back to day-dreaming... :-)
I love the sepia scene and the poem which illustrates it! Nice job, Brenda! :)
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