Harold Dear

Harold Dear

Harold dear.

When I said.

You were worth your weight in gold.

That wasn't an invite.

To put on weight.

You're already old.

But you're also getting fat.

And you won't be told.

We might be a bit old for all that.

But ballroom dancing.

Is best with the agility of a cat.

Perhaps when you have a heart attack.

I will buy a cat.

And feed that.

Instead.

Because you will be dead.

Ewan Povey 2011