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All poems on this site are copyright of Beverley Balogh
Giggling teenagers on a bus sowed the seeds for this poem. They were being rather unkind about one of their teachers.
It took me back to the days when I used to think that when you reached the age of 40 you were old and well over the hill.
How pleased I was when I reached that age to find out that this was definitely not the case.
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Beverley
GOLDEN AGE MEMORIES
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The young people today, think it can't be true
That we once felt the same way they do
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When looking at us they can not believe
That we too were once young and carefree
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Ready and willing to give of our best
And that our men too had hairs on their chests
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Even now when we see a handsome young man
With slender hips and broad shoulder span
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We think back to times when firm young buns
Made our fingers curl and our thoughts turn to fun
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We find ourselves uttering nostalgic sighs
Whilst thinking about all those muscular thighs
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For as we grow older, we don't really forget
But just accept that they are harder to get
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So we make do with remembering how
It was in those days that are over now.
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