Fantastic poem, Bill. It is right on the money - and well crafted. Tis a
beauty !
Andrew
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On 2 March 2016 at 09:30, Bill Wootton <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> Comes a time when the mid-night piss
> calls for resolve after weighing up
> whether to rise or give it a miss.
> Why'd you accept that second cup?
> Retirement: you've been sold a pup.
> Can you lie still, you need to gauge?
> No, move you must or you'll erupt.
> Sheer terrorism, this old age.
>
> Remember times of nightly bliss
> when dreams flowed on, no interrupt,
> your liver cause of no anguish
> - a full night's sleep, zero hiccups.
> Now pelvic floor you must develop.
> Who thought you'd ever reach this stage
> when nature's call should so disrupt?
> Sheer terrorism, this old age.
>
> Sometimes you'll think nothing's amiss,
> your bed a field of buttercups.
> But believe it like an atheist:
> your body's got its own setup.
> Sleeps right through it will corrupt.
> If only you could disengage.
> The breach in slumber so abrupt.
> Sheer terrorism, this old age.
>
> Envoi
>
> Doc, you decide - it's a toss-up:
> Before another night's outrage,
> should I go and get a checkup?
> Sheer terrorism, this old age.
>
> bw
>
--
Andrew
http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
Books available through Walleah Press
http://walleahpress.com.au
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