WE NEED A PLACE

Yes, it’s AI (for now), and it’s much too small and has far too many stairs, but you get the idea…

We need a place,

You know.

Somewhere to be all together

When we’re old and wonky And mischievous.

Gummy, too, probably, But hopefully we’ll have

Good false teeth,

And a nice young lady

Regularly come to do our nails

So we can hide our gummies

Behind rainbows.

We need a place,

You know.

A place with character,

Without too many stairs.

Somewhere with an enormous, light and airy kitchen

Where those of us with cooking inclinations

Can gather to chop a spread of homegrown vegetables

On a board as big as a tree-trunk.

There’ll be music playing,

Not from a transistor radio

Because - come on! - how old do you think we are?!

But from those ghost-like things,

Piloted by whoever gets onto Spotify first.

And chances are we’ll bicker a little

Over Madonna, The Eagles and Genesis, Over jazz, too, unfortunately,

But we’ll make our own playlists,

And singalong to favourites from our funny old world.

We need a place,

You know,

Somewhere large and sprawling,

With enough land to take walks,

Where Zimmer frames can trundle

And wheelchairs can whizz,

Where our dogs and cats can cavort,

And chickens can sunbathe and lay

Perfect eggs.

There should be a large pond, too,

An enchantment of Waterlilies and cobalt dragonflies.

We’ll need someone fit among us,

Someone who knows what will do well in that shady northern spot,

Who knows a weed from a chichi daisy,

And enjoys pruning roses

Just as much as their perfume.

We need a place,

You know,

In a bone-warming climate,

With bougainvillea and plumbago,

And the smiling sparkle of the sea.

We need a pool flanked by oleanders and pampas grasses,

With shallow steps and an elegant rail to grasp

As we make our squealing, ginger way into the warm water.

We need a place,

You know,

With large bright rooms and pretty artwork,

Where linen curtains flirt with the rosemary breeze,

Where the walls don’t smell of disinfectant and fermenting soup.

Where we can write and paint, sing and do pottery,

And read beneath sculpted olive trees so elderly

We'll feel like teenagers of humanity.

We need a place,

You know.

A place where we can

Live joyfully, inspired and safe,

Until we sleep happily ever after.

Buy my book, and a coffee!!!

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