Music drifting in modern sounds

clinking glasses as wine was found,

laughter filled the balmy air

the girls looked pretty sitting there.

Delicious smells in smoky night

candles shimmered in dimming light.

Roasted lamb with chopped mint leaves

sweet green salad with feta cheese.

Crispy chicken with succulent sauce

happy faces but of course!

Barbecuing with such flair.

I almost saw you standing there…

I’ve never made a fancy cake
a malt loaf is really me
I can make a lovely cuppa
so I can always have Assam tea.

I can rustle-up a chicken pie
with the shortest crust you’ll ever find
with a tasty bit of gravy too
but I never make tiramisu,
or even glorious meringues that rise
in heavenly peaks that reach the skies!

I’d rather have a drop of gin
and write a little ditty,
I’m getting on a bit you see
but I really don’t need your pity.
I truly like to dance and sing
with music playing in my ears
a duster in my hand,
like I was seventeen again
as I listen to rock-bands!

I like the music blaring out
put on my heels and gad about,
It gets the work done double quick,
then a drop of Gordon’s, does the trick.

Pies,Poetry and a pint of Gin
my life’s complete, I dream within
of Para-gliding in sunny climes
but to be quite honest I haven’t time.
I’m busy selecting the brightest hues
of brand new hair colours
and when I stand in queues,
I love to listen to the latest chat
of pretty girls who admire my hats!

I love to spray the testers too,
such fun to smell like a famous star
with Chanel and Gucci, I’ll go real far…

Never mind the ‘leccy bill, would
love a new lipstick, better than pills!
Ah! this ones, the one for me
scarlet red, smooth as can be
will make me feel like twenty three,
Pies, Poetry and a Pint of Gin
to dance down street, new life within.

I’ll spend the days reviewing years
I like to write and think a lot
not much one for knitting socks,
nor for mowing or removing weeds,
I think I’ll  move overseas
and sit all day with skirt to knees!                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          In deck-chair on sand and feet in sea,
with wrinkled face and cigar for me.
I can dance all night in Latin clubs
with swarthy handsome younger coves,
then come home at dawn for a cup of tea,
perhaps I can learn to water ski?

But really all I need is
Pies, Poetry and a Pint of Gin !

Copyright @ Susie Hemingway 2009