Old Age is so Sad

I wake in the morning with great delight
Pleased to know I've survived the night
I do a few stretches to prove I'm not dead.
Then carefully and creakily I climb out of bed

Hobble to the bathroom for a shower hot as hell
To clear the sinuses so I can breathe and smell.
During the night everything seems to freeze
So I use a hot towel on my titanium knees.

Take my teeth from the jar on the window sill
Scrub to remove the taste of the gel,
Push them into place with the tip of my tongue
Then grin into the mirror to check they are done.

Open a battery pack for my hearing aids
It's such a shame when the senses fail.
Plug up the holes in the sides of my head
So I might get a clue to what people have said.

Take my glass eye from its satin lined case
Make sure it's turned the right way on my face.
If the coloured bits are facing behind
It looks like I'm trying to read my own mind.

Eat a healthy breakfast of stewed prunes and oats
And a good serve of jam on my wholemeal toast.
A glass full of juice and a pot of strong tea
And I'm ready to face what the day holds for me.

With my coat over my shoulder and hat on my head
I go out for a newspaper to see who is dead
In my mind I do a jump and sideways heel click
As I slam the gate shut with my walking stick.

Treasure Chests

We all have too many things I've found
And there's so much stuff to carry around.
Even when there's nothing new to indulge
Our handbags are full and our wallets bulge.

And if we are out, as we usually are,
We transfer some of the junk to our car.
Most of us try to keep the front neat
And toss everything else in the back seat.

But it's the everyday things that cause a fuss
And create a storage problem for us -
Things like our change and the food store docket
That end up in a bag or deep in our pocket.

We don't have as many pockets as men
And always have more to cart round than them
However we do have  a certain leverage -
We can always drop things into our cleavage

You can't hide even a coin in our flat chested sisters
Or they look padded, uneven or lumpy or twisted.
It either shows as a tiny bump, flat and round
Or it falls straight through and onto the ground.

But bosomy women like Maria and me
Have storage that's easy to access and see.
We might curse our boobs, and the size that they are
But there's always a little more space in our bra.

The pirate kings when they find their treasure
Have been known to dance and sing with pleasure.
They dig up their swords, their jewels and gold plates
And divide them up with their crew and shipmates.

But Maria and I and our well-endowed friends
Have treasures to spare when each day ends
When we undo our bras and toss them aside
There is nothing to support and nothing to hide.

There's an avalanche of treasure, a whole day's horde
And it falls to the floor as our daily reward -
Gold coins and silver, recipes, phone numbers and more
Pens and pencils, keys, nail files and paper clips galore.

While our little A-cup sisters don't have a place to hide
They would be amazed what we can conceal inside.
A pocket knife, a crochet hook, a chocolate bar or two
And no one looking at us would have ever had a clue.

But although our values are more important by far
Our boobs are part, a big part, of who we are.
When other folk just see some great big breasts.
We thank the Lord often for our treasure chests.


Maria is our convoy leader as we head for Uluru and Alice Springs, She has facilitated a group of women who are enjoying each other's company, are looking out for each other, and are rapidly becoming good friends as we travel over 2000km in our various vehicles.

Let Me Out

Please, please let me out of here
The voice was faint but clear.
Please, if you can hear me
Just come and rescue me..

I was stopped in a quiet little park
There is rarely much noise after dark.
I am usually alone and don't think too much
About others who might be camping near us.

But what was the voice I heard so well?
Was there a message for me to tell?
It must have been coming from deep inside
Reminding me of things I'd tried to hide.

Was it the scribe who kept track of the years
And recorded my dreams and my fears
Reminding me that another decade had passed
And opportunities were disappearing fast?

Was it the voice of my conscience saying
That I'd got careless about church and praying                
And if I wanted to secure my place in the sky
There were some things that I should try?

Was it the little fat girl hidden inside
Still counting the fads and diets I'd tried,
Telling me that nobody else gave a damn
So relax and enjoy the person I am?

The questions still came thick and fast.
I needed to get a solution at last.
I'd get out and walk around for a bit
To let the cold air clear my head of it.

But as I stepped out into the dark
The quiet words now came loud and stark.
In the hope that the questions would begin to still
I used the words of Samuel: Lord what is your will?

Can't you hear me? Can't you see that I'm stuck
While you're sprouting all that religious stuff.
The child lock is on and I can't open the door
I've spent all night here on the floor.

The dog's been sick and the smell is rotten
If there's a spare key I have forgotten.
So please, pretty please, let me out if you can.
I've lost my enthusiasm for this new van.

Thanks to Lorraine (and her big dog Mena) who shared a journey in her new van.

Sun and Rain

We're so lucky to live in this country
Where the sun shines so bright and hot.
Don't you love the life that we live
And all the freedom we've got?

Why waste resources and money
On old fashioned types of power
With our solar panels on your roof
You'll never pay for a hot shower.

You'll save a fortune on power bills
And be doing your bit for the earth
You'll be leading the global reform
To show what our planet is worth.

What do you mean you don't have a roof?
What do you do when it rains?
I put up my trusty umbrella
And paddle and splash in the drains.

Thanks Vonnie for the inspiration.

Navigator Extraordinaire

We hired a car in Darwin
To drive south to Uluru.
If you're behind the wheel, said Jan
I'll navigate for you.

I'm very good on the east coast.
I know north is where I'll be
If the mountains are on my left hand
And on my right is the sea.

I'm not so sure about the desert
Because everything's so flat
Without the sea and the mountains
And other landmarks like that.

I suppose I could look at the sun
And see where it is in the sky.
As long as it's not midday,
I can check where the shadows lie.

Once we're sure we've got our bearings
And we know we're going the right way
I will be the ideal navigator
For the rest of the travelling day.

But after we stop for the night
I have a big decision to make.
When we get back to the highway
Is it a left or right turn we take?

So you might have to drive and check
Till we find a sign that will say
Adelaide or Alice or Uluru 
And I'll take over for the rest of the day.


Thanks Jan, I could hardly have done it without you.

Corrections and Connections

You’re our oldest sister and you’ve always been boss.

We’re finding it hard watching your memory loss.

We know there are times you are lucid and clear

So let me sort out some important things for you, dear.

It has been months since Margaret got back from Rome

And Karen does have a craft room built onto her home.

I doubt Denis had Mum trowelled in with the mortar

And Rod lied about Fiji – he won’t fly over water.

But Trish was never planning to catch a train.

You’re losing your hearing as well as your brain.

They are waiting for rain all over the nation

And she’s doing it tough on her huge cattle station.

Don’t think for a moment Cecily’s buying an urn.

She always thinks we have family to burn.

She’ll leave Mum’s ashes in a bag in a drawer

And they’ll slowly drift out and get swept from the floor.

I know Frank got his email and Tony as well

Keith will have known, it’s Frank’s job to tell.

You assured us you mentioned only ten at the time

As thirteen is hard for rhythm and rhyme.

You named all the sisters and some of the others.

Do you remember the names of your eight lovely brothers?

If they’ve been onto Facebook and checked out your poem

They’ll think you’ve forgotten that you’ve ever known them.

In case you’re losing your marbles and I’m afraid it is so

I’ll tell you the others so that next time you will know.

There’s Barry and Terry and Brian – that’s three

And one of them, darling sister, is actually me.

I hope this is all part of someone else's tale
And you didn't get the urn at an op shop sale.
I understand that your memory's increasingly bad
But even you must know Mum's buried with Dad.

(A possible response from a neglected brother)

Enunciate Clearly Please

I know you love to cook and share your expertise

Preparing beef or lamb or pork using family recipes.

Some of us are happy to have culinary education

And follow the process with a little imagination.

But the picture of what you serve up on the plate

Can be coloured by how well you enunciate.

So John, when you say your pork hock's on the griddle,

Say it slowly and clearly and pause in the middle.