It's strange how our perspectives, Do change, a s time does pass, Espec'lly when it comes to age, Whene'er it does amass. Recall a distant memory, When very young was I, Was not 'llowed to forget it, Reminded, by and by. Was with mum, in our village, Where church friends, we did meet, A compliment was given, I jumped in, with both feet. "You're looking great today Mrs. Ross" To mum, o ne friend, said free, "Don't feel it" mum said, adding on, "For an old girl like me" "YOU'RE not old" she did respond, MY r'sponse, made her forlorn, "My mummy IS old", I replied, "She was 40, when I was born"
Poetry I have composed throughout the years. Some specifically for people, others for printing in anthologies