This poem arrived in my email letterbox the other day from a good friend who lives in the village. I immediately thought this would be suitable for the blog, so I contacted him to ask if he knew who had written the poem, because breach of copyright can cause problems. He didn’t know!

Because the email seemed to be part of a chain I emailed the original sender only to find out that she lived in Australia. She replied to my email advising that she would contact her friend, who sent it to her, and in turn the friend contacted somebody else, to find out who wrote the poem. In the meantime the lady I contacted in Oz said that she had fond memories of East Yorkshire and remembered the Walkington Hayride. A bit later the reply came back from Australia, that they had been unable to locate the source, so the best thing was just to publish the poem anonymously. So if you wrote this poem, thank you, it made us laugh.

I’m normally a social girl
I love to meet my mates
But lately with the virus here
We can’t go out the gates.

You see, we are the ‘oldies’ now
We need to stay inside
If they haven’t seen us for a while
They’ll think we’ve upped and died.

They’ll never know the things we did
Before we got this old
There wasn’t any Facebook
So not everything was told.

We may seem sweet old ladies
Who would never be uncouth
But we grew up in the 50s –
If you only knew the truth!

There was sex and drugs and rock ‘n roll
The pill and miniskirts
We smoked, we drank, we partied
And were quite outrageous flirts.

Then we settled down, got married
And turned into someone’s mum,
Somebody’s wife, then nana,
Who on earth did we become?

We didn’t mind the change of pace
Because our lives were full
But to bury us before we’re dead
Is like red rag to a bull!

So here you find me stuck inside
For 4 weeks, maybe more
I finally found myself again
Then I had to close the door!

It didnt really bother me
I’d while away the hour
I’d bake for all the family
But I’ve got no bloody flour!

Now Netflix is just wonderful
I like a gutsy thriller
I’m swooning over Idris
Or some random sexy killer.

At least I’ve got a stash of booze
For when I’m being idle
There’s wine and whiskey, even gin
If I’m feeling suicidal!

So let’s all drink to lockdown
To recovery and health
And hope this bloody virus
Doesn’t decimate our wealth.

We’ll all get through the crisis
And be back to join our mates
Just hoping I’m not far too wide
To fit through the flaming gates!

Anonymous

 

 

Posted on: 10, April, 2020 | Author: editor
Categories: Humorous/Fun

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