Once upon a time- these overused words- when I was sixty five
and my hair turned grey, I bought dye but it was of the wrong
type my hair turned blue rinsed. I looked like a stern lady who
does good work among the less privileged; yet, you said you
loved me, and I remembered a song by the Beetles.
We are old now and take each other for granted till one of us
go out for more than two hours.
It is a long time since I said: I love you, you too use that word
Also sparsely, perhaps we should get into the habit again and
I will sing you a song when Iím eighty-five.
And there, full of cakes and ale, someone will pipe up and ask:
who the hell were the Beetles?