Distinguished

“Distinguished,” there’s a word guys love to hear.
Right up there with “No longer serving beer.”
I guess she must have noticed lots of gray
And tried real hard for something nice to say.

“Well thank you” to my nice “Full figured gal.”
“Please let me order for us both.” (Low cal.)
“Distinguished,” when she used to call me “Hunk.”
She may again if I can get her drunk.

“It’s got to be the dress, I’m sure it’s that,
For we both know that you’re not getting fat.”
And what’s a little silver in my hair
As long as there’s so much of it still there?

Would you mind speaking up a little please?
I couldn’t hear you with that pesky breeze-
Keeps blowing but I heard just what you said.
It’s not too early, we can go to bed.

The thing is now we go to bed and sleep.
It must be those appointments that we keep.
The run around has got us both so tired,
And all those steps, no wonder we perspired.

I know some day we’ll both be getting old.
Let’s talk inside, I’m sure you must be cold.
(God knows that you’ve had quite enough to eat.)
“Distinguished,” thank you darling, you’re so sweet.

John H. Bidwell