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.