Real Men
When I was a young man
(Just 13 years ago)
I was a pushover for a pretty face
And a hot body—
I meant well.
Now that I am older
It takes more to bend my will—
A touch a smile or
The word “maybe”
Will do nearly every time.
I don’t fault my DNA
I praise it
After all letting her think
She has control is
Half the fun.
In this state of wooze
More or less like booze
She lets me do things
I could never do
On my own.
Karma is the final judge
'cause when I push the envelope
I end up on my ass—
Just like the fool
I used to be.
All in the game...
I so enjoyed this....
Diana...
Regis
Ron
Love ya!
Jane
With out some humorous self-depredation, how can one expect to know the truly serious contemplation hovering, waiting to be be embraced and used to take us to the next moment of levity. Ah, the gift of aging.