(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 50^th 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.