Friday, April 24, 2009

Now We Are Thirty-Six

with apologies to Mr. Milne

Creep, creep, the wrinkles creep
And grey creeps in my hair
And round my waist, and at my hips
I'm getting wider there.

If I should go play tennis
Next day it is my luck
To feel as if my arm had been
run over by a truck.

My children jump in to the pool-
I think the water's much too cool.
Instead I sit and read a book
And think about what I should cook.

I used to go to plays and shows,
go dancing, singing in the street.
It seems like too much trouble now-
I'm just feeling kind of beat.

If I should live to seventy-two
That means I'm half-way there!
I think I'll sit and rest a while
And ponder o'er each weary mile
That lies behind, and still ahead,
Or maybe I'll just go to bed.


becbloggin said...


beth said...

Is it your birthday??? HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!

Kimbooly said...

Happy Birthday! I'm creeping up on 32.

My favorite line was your very last line--I think I'll just go to bed. : )