Jul 31, 2011

Poetry Jam, 1st. August

The peerless Poetry Jam blog is hosted this week by The Bug, who asks us to predict what our lives will be like at the R.O.A. of 67.  I have trouble predicting what was, ne'er mind what is to come, but here goes - with apologies to the late Mr. Frank Sinatra.

When I was 67 . . .

 . . . it was a very good year.
It was a very good year
for conservatories.
So I built my own
And in rained a lot
or the sun was hot
when I was sixty-seven.

When I was sixty eight
it was a not-so-good year.
It was a very bad year
for getting floors flat,
wasn't so used to that.
But the roof was on.
I was running late
when I was sixty eight

When I was sixty nine
it was another good year.
It was a very good year
to get it all double glazed
we sat in there and lazed
and the kids were amazed.
So it turned out fine
when I was sixty nine.

And now I'm seven and four
it is a very good year
to lie down and snore.
The conservatory's
part of history.
So if you want one
away and build yer own
if you've two spare years . . .


  1. Ever onwards and upwards, eh Doc? :)

  2. a very good year indeed ~

    thanks for sharing it ~

  3. What a fine room, even if it took two years! I have one like that, and I paid someone else to do it. Lovely writing space, too...

  4. Well I hope I have the energy to build something when I'm 67. Of course I still won't build it because I'm entirely without those types of skills, but it would be nice to have the energy to!

  5. Enjoyed the construction....I'd like to hear you sing this one. ; )


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