It's strange how our perspectives,
Do change, as 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 friend, we did meet,
A compliment was given,
I jumped in, with both feet.
"You're looking great today Mrs. Ross"
To mum, that 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 mum forlorn,
"My mummy IS old", I replied,
"She was 40, when I was born"
Was ne'er 'llowed t'forget that quip,
'Millstone' 'round my neck, hung,
It's strange how, 60 + years aft.,
The '40's' WERE quite young.
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