The Race

In our late teens down at the pub
we talked of things we liked.
Rock 'n roll,brunettes and blondes,
Mustangs and Norton Bikes.
Time's moved on and things have changed
and all of this has led
to talk of laying paving slabs and weatherproofing sheds.
Instead of worshipping our favourite bands
like Slade, Led Zep and Bolan
I now find that I hold a torch for the eldest of the Nolans.
Greasy skin and acne were the only things to blight us
long since replaced by varicose veins and rheumatoid arthritis.
The book of life we all must learn has reached the centre page
the staples coldly telling us that we've now reached middle age.
Still, if life is but a long hard race, the TT if you like,
I'm thankful I'm still in it and I ain't come off me bike.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

Poem

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Laurie Avatar
February 17, 2015 at 6:24 PM
G'day Viv... Oh yes, I guess its an art to grow old especially after the near misses in our early years. I enjoyed your nostalgic poem Viv - Lindsay
Holmes Avatar
February 17, 2015 at 10:53 AM
Nice write Viv...and thanks for the comment!....Peter
Nance Avatar
February 17, 2015 at 8:22 AM
Ah the stories of our lives, hope you keep writing your pages :)
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