They say God’s got a girl for every man,
But where are You?
Will I meet you when I’m old and frail?
If so a dreadful waste.
Or maybe I’ve already let you slip
Between my fingers.
Fear of Commitment
Might have done its worst.

Ever the Lone Wolf
I seem to be.
A confirmed Bachelor
Running free.

My love of Star Trek says it all,
I’ll not be going to the ball.
The only ball I want to see
Is on Match of The Day: on my TV.

Seems I’ll never be a *******,
Too busy being a reader.
More to the point I’m one of those Writers,
No time for those little blighters.

So I’ll soldier on each day,
Living comfortably on my retirement pay.
Writing my stuff and drinking my whisky,
Good luck to those who’d rather get frisky.

Paul Butters