A Woman Of A Certain Age 

Well, the weather put paid to our plans to leave Ouistreham this morning as the ‘pea soup’ arrived and as we actually want to see where we are going (and passing) rather than just keeping a lookout for other vessels in the murk we decided to go back to bed. It has also presented me with the opportunity to finalize a little poem that has been building in my head (generally at night when I can’t sleep!). I think I’m finally happy with it and thought I would share it here with you! Hope it makes you smile!!

A Woman Of A Certain Age 

A woman of a certain age is that what I’ve become?

I hope it doesn’t last too long, I know it does for some

I hope you will forgive me if you think I’m being rude

it’s just that all this shit puts me in a cranky mood

A woman of a certain age is that what I ‘ve become?

But I was sure I’m meant to be one of the “ever young”

My mind is busy telling me I’m only twenty one

So WHY can’t it tell the rest of me and make it play along?

These bloody ‘granny whiskers’ keep appearing with no warning

So I stand before the mirror, plucking, each and every morning

Don’t talk to me of flushes or sweating over night

Because I’ve become an expert, just so you know, ALL RIGHT?

Maybe I should try some fancy HRT 

But that means seeing a doctor and that is so ‘not me’

They’d ask me lots of questions and I’d struggle to reply

I might be able to say my name but then I’d start to cry

A woman of a certain age is that what I’ve become?

It’s not supposed to happen to me, I mean, I’m not my mum

I wish that it would hurry up and please, please, please just end

Before it’s finally too late and driven me round the bend

A woman of a certain age IS what I have become

Now a wrinkly dry old prune, no more a juicy plum!

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