The sawdust under my feet,
Keeps me from sashaying around.
I, but an old duffer who knows his limits,
Never lets loose like a youngster.
Gone are the days when
I could do those things.
Now I just look for a slow
Dance and hold my gal real close.
Seems that part of me
Still thinks it can work.
Fool though I be, I smile.
Those days are gone too.
Love ya!
Jane