When the multiplication tables were in
Twenty-seven stood for three raised to three;
Now it stands for the age of this old wine,
The spirit, inside a big barrel called me.
No humble words, the barrel loves to expand,
This spirit grows mellow people say (God knows)
Though it was only yesterday that I was a kid,
Splashing for hours in the mighty river green.
Now the wrong side of twenties beckons me,
For it’s a freefall that all women go through,
From where you slip into the 30s, 40s and 50s,
Wrinkles, complaints and hassles of old age.
A lousy bunch of thoughts on my special day,
That’s me on my twenty seventh birthday!
4 comments:
enikku cake kittiyilla......
If u run and come fast, you will get three fourths of the cake. Arumillarunnu kazhikkan!
Many happy returns of the day. I like your poems.
Age isnt bad really, it adds a lot to you. When someone asks, do you want to be young again, I shudder. No Way. But I do wish I could have the clear eyesight, the agility when you are young.
Belated Bday Wishes dear Maria.
Hope you had a funday.
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