cherry bough snow woodlands wearing seventy
spring hung tree again room roam bloom
when i grow old
i wont be able
to roam about the woodlands
toboggan in the snow
sing jazz in karioke bars again
wear cherry pink hair in spring
pick the fruit off low hung boughs
from my neighbour's lemon trees
i will probably just sit in my room
in hair rollers and big bloomers
wondering how i got to be seventy so soon
best wishes.
ReplyDeletewow.
ReplyDeletewords are well formed in your poetry.
Well ... you might be surprised about what you do when you reach seventy ;-) Bastet
ReplyDelete