GOOSEBERRY GARDEN
http://gooseberrygoespoetic.blogspot.com/2011/09/poetry-picnic-week-3-free-linking.html
allows us to rehash
LET'S CELEBRATE!
My neck is having a birthday.
It's one hundred and twenty today.
It just dangles its wrinkles and shows off its crinkles
And wags in an elderly way.
It used to be slender and creamy,
It used to be smooth to the touch,
But a neck that's antique
Is considered a freak
And nobody cares for it much.
My knees are having a birthday,
I think they're at least ninety eight.
They let out a shriek and crackle and creak
And the bones rub together and grate!
I used to be agile and limber,
I could stand on one leg like a stork.
But now I cry 'Ouch!'
When I get off the couch
And I wince if I go for a walk.
My feet are having a birthday.
Oh dear, they're at least eighty two!
If I walk by the lake they get grumpy and ache
And demand a more comfortable shoe!
I used to wear slingbacks and peep-toes,
And high heels when high heels were the rage,
Now it's moccasin time and it does seem a crime
That my feet have reached such a great age.
My eyes are having a birthday,
I think they're about sixty three,
Sometimes there's a hint of some mist in my squint,
But I get by with what I can see.
My eyes used to sparkle and glitter
And widen with joyous surprise,
But, although they don’t blaze ,and there’s kind of a haze
Sixty three isn't bad for my eyes.
My tummy is having a birthday,
I reckon that that's fifty one,
It does sort of sag which is rather a snag,
And bikinis don’t rate in the sun.
My tummy was flat as a pancake
In the days that we call days of yore,
But babies and gravity soon wrecked that cavity.
Oh well, that's what tummies are for!
My ears are having a birthday.
They’re, luckily, just forty-three.
I can hear a loud gong and a bird’s tiny song
And the flutter of leaves on a tree.
Though young peoples’ music sounds raucous,
And a whisper may pass me unheard,
I can pick up a sigh or a moth winging by,
And my dear little grandson’s first word.
My heart is having a birthday
Today it is just twenty-one.
It really enjoys seeing gorgeous young boys
As they play in the surf and the sun.
I'd look odd if I joined in the party,
By the young I'd be looked on askance,
But I still love guitars and still gaze at the stars,
And my memory knows how to dance.
My soul is having a birthday
(My spirit, my ego, whatever)
It's still only ten, as it was way back then,
And it's going to stay that way for ever!
I still think the world is a big joke,
I still like to write silly rhymes,
I still like to giggle and make my ears wiggle.
Yes, this is the greatest of times.
So, if I may make a suggestion,
Choose the part of you still feeling young,
Then decide on its date and we'll all celebrate!
It may be your nose or your lung!
Forget all the bits that are drooping,
Forget all the parts that may ache!
Then invite everyone and we’ll all have some fun
And make pigs of ourselves with your cake!
*
