Holding Back The Years Poem by Lulu Gee

My dressing table’s laden with oily balms and ointments
Serums, anti-wrinkle creams, emulsions and emollients

There’s everything to smooth my skin and wipe away the years
As I squander and waste money to abate my ageing fears

The pots of creamy luxury advertised in Vogue and Elle
That promise to de-wrinkle me..... Do they bloody-hell!

I follow the instructions morning, noon and night
But still these bloody wrinkles are putting up a fight

I scrub my face until its’ clean then apply the mask
They say to leave it half an hour; a tiresome, irksome task

Perhaps I’ll have a face-lift to make me young again
But could I stand the suffering and the weeks of awful pain

I know a man who’d do it for rather a large sum
He’d fold and pin and tuck to stop me looking like my Mum

My face would be distended, black and blue and sore
My eyes puffed up and weepy and my skin mottled and raw

Maybe while he’s at it he could give my neck a press
To iron out the creases and crepey sagginess

I’ll plaster on this new cream that’s guaranteed to work
At least that’s what Jane Fonda says, with a wily smirk

I turn towards the mirror, is that my Grandmamma I see
I touch her wrinkled brow.........Oh my God, Oh no it’s me!