I don’t mind when brows march north to meet my hair
And nose slides south to thinner lips
I don’t mind when thickest hair turns thin and spare
And feet spread wider than my hips.
I don’t mind when coughs are leaking more than tears
And stature’s shrunk from tall to small
I don’t mind when small print fades and blurs and smears
And chin sprouts beard: No, not at all.
Congratulations, Mylady. :)
ReplyDeletelovely! since I fall in the category of being "middle age", I concur with you fully!
ReplyDeleteYou should read my daughter's poem.... you will love it.... :)
Special Day? Enjoy!
ReplyDeleteAll the above are marks of honour, they all add to the character. Keep the eyes smiling and nothing else matters.
I suppose one advantage of being older is that you just don't have to worry about being perfect any more, you know very well you're not. Whereas all the youngsters fret that if they just did that extra something to their hair, or their make-up, or their skin, or their clothes, they'd be absolutely drop-dead gorgeous.
ReplyDeleteJust spent a good 30 minutes reading your blog - and loved every minute! A pleasure to read. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteBren.
I don't mind either, WWW - as some wit once said "It's better than the only alternative!" ;-)
ReplyDelete