It was only the other day; I ran into Oh what’s his name.
He was on his way north, a travelling salesman.
Oh if only I could remember his name.
Whilst he looks a little younger these days, what with hair colour.
That’s it. You wouldn’t know he was grey.
He told me now listen mate!
I’ve been yearning for newer company of late!
If the truth be told life doesn’t have the same hold.
Well a man needs, well it’s just this way.
Around & around he went, his riddles needed some rhyming.
Tis me good mate, but his mind not firing like it should.
His spark plugs need a little timing.
A good mind mechanic should fix that.
But before my mind drew a break.
He is telling of a new friend, well sort of a new fangled love mate.
Lovely pictures of the lass adorn his walls, professionally taken.
In the old days women would say the curtains should have been drawn.
It’s not in me heart to say what’s comes to mind.
The words just well there hard to find.
I digress; I write this letter to you, I know it will make you stew!
Tis hard to say, we all grow old one day.
Our shoes & fashion don’t hold sway.
Well he is out with a floozy this much Ill say.