It has been a while since I’ve posted here due to my working on my book. You can just make out some of us playing French cricket in the background! I had about twenty guests – not a bad turn out for a semi-recluse! The weather was sunny on Sat 6 August and it was good to see everyone enjoying themselves. Friends came from my Yoga group and Writers’ group.
The poem is a bit of intentional semi-doggerel, if there is such a thing! (I was rather pleased with the rhyme for ‘cricket’- in the last stanza.)
Birthday Poem at 70.
The day dawned like any other day;
I’m still standing and not yet lame.
Seventy circuits of the earth around the sun,
I hope I’ll never need a Zimmer frame!
My daughter asks what’s it like to be seventy,
I reply no different to being sixty nine.
A friend writes keep the child within alive,
keep writing poetry and you’ll be fine.
Lets give thanks and salute the sun today,
play French cricket in Saltwell Park
eat chocolate, Barack Obama and samosas
before our journey into the dark.
If I live to be a hundred, I wouldn’t want a plastic heart
In all honesty I don’t think I could stick it;
I wouldn’t want Botox or any replacement part;
I’d just like to be able, still to play French Cricket!
Note: Barack Obama is what I called barm brack cake.