(On the occasion a couple of years ago of several friends 50th birthdays occurring)
You might like my poem – give it a whirl
I hope it gets clearer as it unfurls
Concerning 5 people – all birthday girls.
Leaving their youth in arrears
Becoming 5 sweet old dears.
The theme as I mentioned is common to all
Their 50th birthday’s about to befall
Despite their best efforts to try and to stall
The onset of advancing years
The deadline inexorably nears
One of these ladies is my darling wife
The one I intend to share all my life
But if I get from her any more strife
I’s’ll bray the silly old bat
(Don’t tell her though that I said that!).
There’s Val. (“Is she 50? Surely it’s false?”)
Then Jill and Angela necking a Grolsch
“So who’s missing?” You might ask. Yes, you’ve guessed – it’sLynne Walsh
Who’s never yet made a date
Without ever turning up late.
From the tone of my verses you might think you detect
A certain irreverance or lack of respect
But no! there’s none from my bed I’d reject
Despite their declining years
Well - after a couple of beers.
All five they could have me, if they was canny
I think that they’re all a nice bit of fanny
Even Jill Wilford and she’s now a granny
At their age they make sex a blast
See they reckon it might be their last.
I’ve bought your prezzies – a shawl and some mittens
I’ve got you some wool to start off your knitting
And incontinence pants for something to …sit in
To cope with your dribbling wee
Hang on – they’ll come in for me.