Terms Of Endearment - Poem by Paul Breslin
"When ye was young, ye worked much better,"
Frank Finnegan said to his body
"Ye ran and ye leaped like an Irish setter
And yer proportions wasn't s'shoddy.
"Yer legs would wend ye the way t'church
Yer knees was sturdy at prayer.
Ye climbed like an ape high up in the birch
And yer arms was strong for the wear.
"Yer eyes, like the crow's, could see off afar.
Yer teeth crunched candies of rock.
Ye rarely would stop for a drink at the bar,
And yer brains kept library stock.
"Yer ears, that wasn't exceedingly good,
Could pick what they wanted to hear.
The power of yer mouth was well understood,
And yer heart made faces at fear."
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