Youth is fading.
Like a flickering candle, manipulated by the breeze of summers lick.
Inside the self not long ago.

Ageing was unthinkable,undrinkable.

Today,

Stiff joints,
muscles buzz,
stretched in wretched torment.
Knees red as blazing rugby *****.

Broken hips as crushed up glass, cheap market glass.

My greatest wish would be.

To wrestle with the beast of age,
Half Nelson?
Smash it neatly out of the way.

A role reversal of all powerful father time.

Oh well,
We can dream.
At least I can still drink it up.
Use of the pleasure.
This sweet thing called life.
(C) Livvi