BY MAC LOGAN

Aye, Davy lad, the time is come

for one more year to pass you by.

But where’s the sense o’ lookin’ glum?

With ageless wings you still can fly.

 

One thing, I guess, is worth a note

but hardly begs a song of glee;

the hobblin’, limpin’, awkward gait

that’s driven by your agein’ knee.

 

That lumpy, bumpy, creakin’ joint;

a source of pain and slower stalkin’;

’tis only but a passin’ point

and soon again you’ll stride out – walkin’.

 

So here’s a birthday wish for youse …

An honest prayer, you’ll better feel.

That soon you’ll leave the aching’ blues

and once more dance the Eightsome Reel!

 

Copyright Mac Logan

Mac Logan is a Scottish Poet & Author.