(seize it or seize up!)
They say sixty is now the new forty
and forty’s the new thirty-two,
at age twenty-one
life has barely begun;
fifty-nine is the time to break through
to bigger and bolder and better
fun-drizzled, sun-sizzled days,
with an eyeful of twinkles
on a sprinkling of wrinkles
in a kicking-up-heels silver haze.
So, bring on my magical number;
I’m a spring-chicken decade from fun!
I’m a mere forty-nine –
a far cry from my prime…
roll on mutton – this lamb’s feeling glum!
Oh dear, there has just been a news flash;
it states eighty’s the new fifty nine…
so I’m seizing my day
without further delay
before creaking bones run out of time.
I’m donning my purple ensemble
with a smidgen of pink (the new black);
I’m sporting a grin
and I’m flirting with sin
on the road to There’s No Going Back
to mundane and humdrum and so-so
while I’m waiting for life to begin;
I’m grabbing those horns
as a woman reborn –
I’ve heard bad’s the new good – COUNT ME IN!