Earlier this past week I had a moment...a moment of what I guess was an inspiration. I say, "I guess" because to me inspiration is something that strikes you, unexpectedly, and you can't help to use it in some expressive way. Generally, when I think about inspiration it has a positiveness about it but, in this case, it was something relatively negative that I chose to spin in a comedic way. I think that's enough said. I'm sure once you've read my latest offering you'll understand what I mean. All you 60 something out there can identify with this one. Oh, by the way, as a side note, on Tuesday I will be turning 46, but as you all know, I'm dyslexic!
By Patty Lynn
I studied my arms and my stomach today.
I try not to do that ‘cause it spoils my day.
And speaking of spoiling, I think that’s the scoop;
We’re not aging, we’re spoiling. Boy, I’m thrown for a loop!
I watch ripe tomatoes hang too long in the sun.
What happens? Why, wrinkles, their smoothness is gone!
That’s just how my skin looks, not smooth any more.
It’s looser and hangy. Will it soon touch the floor?
We can blame it on time and gravity, too.
But to find a solution for me and for you
Would take a real breakthrough to keep our skin taut.
That anti-age answer’s what everyone wants.
My answer is simple and quite element’ry,
A miracle really, the idea of the cent’ry.
It’d take a designer who’d make some adjustments.
The size would increase some and may be called nonsense.
But imagine this with me, a container so big
It’d lock in our “freshness” no more spoiling, ya’ dig?
So c’mon let’s all call ‘em, those Tupperware folks,
‘Cause “locking in freshness” is the slogan they boast.
At night we’d all crawl in containers, not beds,
While dreams of “fresh faces” would dance in our heads.
We’d wake in the morning re-freshed from our sleep,
No bags and no wrinkles, no lines running deep.
Ok, wishful thinking, but a thought none-the-less,
A desire to preserve life’s not so bad, don’t you guess?
I guess we can only accept what’s our fate,
Make the best of each day, don’t set there and wait…
For the signs that you’re older. That’s the least of your worry.
Take your time, savor life, don’t be in a hurry…
You may miss the joy that a child can bring,
Or the lilt of a songbird that’s decided to sing.
Though I wish I looked younger, I’m glad to be me,
Hanging flesh and deep wrinkles, I’m who I must be.
So I won’t put on night cream all over my face
In hopes that my wrinkles might somehow erase.
Just like that tomato, I’ll natur’lly spoil
And sing loud and clear, “I like bein’ a goil!”
Guess aging’s like spoiling, it’s a part of the game.
My face and my bod, well, they won’t be the same.
Let’s face it we’re aging, that’s right, we grow old,
And if we’re real lucky,
We’ll stop short of mold!