His strong, square chin has fallen,
Saggy skin is hanging low,
So he grows a beard to hide it all,
A beard as white as snow.

His curly thick hair is gone, but still
A few strands do remain,
He combs them carefully each morn,
And thinks he looks the same.

His muscles droop, they're kinda soft,
But he flexes and he struts,
He thinks he's very handsome,
She tells him he is nuts.

But she's turned on every day,
And thinks she has a prize,
His face has changed, and yet,
There's lovelight in his eyes.


By Frannie (Frannie516@aol.com)





Watch these pages for more poems by Frannie.
In the meantime, click the links below for other poems and stories by the authors at Lara's Den.

To My Valentine

Little Heart He Made Me

Exotic Moments


Happy Being Me


Pot Of Stew Simmering

The Valentine Box

And.......for many others, click the index image.

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