I'm sceptical by nature and I'd never tell a lie,
In fact, my faults are very, very few.
So you'll know I'm being honest when I look you in the eye,
And you'll understand that all I say is true.
*
I was driving on the M5; it was raining, I recall;
And I had to do my best to concentrate,
For the line of heavy traffic had slowed-down to just a crawl
And I was a little cross at being late.
When, suddenly, this light appeared, quite low-down in the sky;
It was brilliant and enormous and so bright!
A shudder passed right through me and I couldn't work-out why
I felt a surge of overwhelming fright.
Then the great white beam engulfed me! My car was in a cloud!
I heard a whine, a really ghastly sound!
My car was lifted in the air in a sort of misty shroud!
I was hovering ten miles above the ground.
Then, suddenly, a tiny man with funny pointed ears
Poked his face in through the window and then spoke;
'You're the perfect human specimen we've been hunting for for years'.
And I blurted out 'Is this some sort of joke!'
Then he became quite nasty and I found myself dragged out
And whisked off to a Space Laboratory!
As I lay there on the Operating Table I looked up
And a dozen little men looked down at me!
They had scalpels, they had knives, they wore coats of spooky green,
And every single 'surgeon' had a list.
'You take stomach; I'll take liver; Gronch, it's your turn with a spleen.
And, don't forget, the left lung can't be missed!'
Now the funny thing about it was I didn't feel a thing;
I sort of drifted off into a dream.
And I didn't seem to bleed or bruise and nothing seemed to sting;
I didn't let-out one small groan or scream!
Then, suddenly, I was in my car and back on the M5!
I didn't even have one single scar!
I was quite untouched and healthy and so glad to be alive!
I was just another driver in a car.
*
I'm sceptical by nature and I'd never tell a lie,
In fact, my faults are very, very few.
So you'll know I'm being honest when I look you in the eye,
And you'll understand that all I say is true.
*
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WHO CARES!
Who cares if I'm one year older!
Who cares if the wrinkles spread!
Who cares if the date
Says 'Getting late'!
I'm alive! And I could be dead!
*
So to all of you other wrinklies
Hanging on as the clock winds down
A Happy New Year
Don't shed a tear!
Go out and paint the town!
*
1 comment:
rinkles or not, the spirit of the poem is in last line - Go Paint the Town or Blogs, you love :-)))
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