FIFTY SOMETHING

“Do you know...what day it is?”
“Nope”...said my beau. “What's today?”
“Well! If you can't remember”, I cried
“I'm not gonna say.
Well aren't you gonna ask me?”
I insisted with a few tears.
“Alright”, he said...”you're fifty today...
and you have been for three or four years”.

That wasn't what I wanted to hear.
Just a few...simple birthday wishes,
a romantic night...a bottle of wine
and someone to do the dishes.
Instead...like a mature plucked Cinderella
with mascara blurred...eyes
my Prince Charming declares he's swapping
my fifty for two twenty fives.

He'll have a problem handling two;
his belly hangs below his belt.
He said my boobs were no better
like saddle bags...last time he felt.
See...they fall underneath me arms.
He knelt on 'em once and they spread.
Reckoned he was leaning forward
to switch on the light overhead.

He can't do things...like he used to
gets short winded and very abrupt.
When we were young...he worked all night
now he's all night...working it up.
Mind you...I don't give him a lot of help
like I did when I was young.
The elasticity has left my vital parts
you could say...spring has sprung.

We try to get together...
was recommended a book called "Fore Play"
wasn't a crossword or card game in it,
and the pictures were worn away.
I looked at myself in the mirror
perhaps the problem lies with me.
Surely the body doesn't fall apart...
...life begins at fifty.

I need to recharge by batteries,
get rid of my facial hair,
buy new underwire bras,
make 'em look like a pair.
My beau used a whipper snipper on my face,
“I'll trim it”...he said...”it won't pull”.
So I laid on the floor with his foot on my neck,
it started...then ran out of fuel.
Just as well...it went berserk,
desexed our neighbour’s cat.
I said...”Whatever you do...don't mention it...
when you give 'em the snipper back.”

I've been going to the gym lately,
I wear the correct gear...
you know...leotards with that skinny strap
on the strategic part of your rear.
No-one told me to wear tights as well
as I sat on the rowing machine.
Imagine how I felt...when a man pulled it out,
thank goodness it came out clean.
I'm preparing my body and keeping fit,
you know age is a state of mind too,
don't ask me what state I'm in,
let's just say...’Thirty Two.’

Copyright; Shirley Friend
From her book 'Another Dose From Floozie'