My word you do look queer

You’re ninety two, well blow me down

I never would have guessed

You look so young and sprightly

And seem so full of zest

You’ve got your hair, its all your own

Your teeth are yours, not false

The way you talk, it’s obvious

Your mind’s intact, of course

What’s that you say, I’m sorry

Sometimes I can’t quite hear

It’s fifty two, not ninety

My word you do look queer

© John W Fenn 22-05-2009