I Will Dance Naked

old ladies dancing

This is neither a threat nor a promise!

Growing old disgracefully – hell yeah! I have absolutely no intention of going quietly or in a dignified manner. I must admit to getting a perverse kind of satisfaction out of acting outside of the norm, so here is my ode to my older self.

I Will Dance Naked

Advancing years, or so it appears, is a time to commiserate.

It won’t be long until you’re gone, and arriving at Heaven’s gate.

Your hair goes grey, your teeth decay and your get-up-and-go has fled.

I heard someone mention, once you draw your pension,

You’re likely to drop down dead.

But old age to me is a chance to see, just how naughty I can become.

A time to flirt, and wear my skirt so it barely covers my bum.

The menopause is a blessing of course, no worries about contraception.

Your libido’s sky high, your eggs are freeze-dried,

And no chance of a surprise conception.

I can dye my hair, from dark to fair, and all anyone will say,

Is ‘Bless the old dear, she’s got dye on her ear,’

While I strut about being blasé.

I can wear slogan tops, while my mammaries flop,

For who am I trying to impress?

If someone dislikes, they can go take a hike,

In my old age I couldn’t care less.

I can sport bright red lips and outrageous hair clips

And even some false eyelashes.

Eyeshadow in blue, and my shoes, Jimmy Choo

In a colour that really clashes.

I can drink lots of wine, at any old time, and dance on the kitchen table.

Of course I’ll be nude, and acting quite lewd

But I’ll do it as long as I’m able!

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