An Odd Number Indeed

Today is the day

I dare not turn around my age,

Some people do 

When they reach another stage.

It makes them younger

Or so they believe,

So sixty-five would be fifty-six

In their attempt to deceive.

The age above might work 

As opposed to sixty-one and sixteen,

Such would be too far fetch

Since they are way past their teens.

To do that would make me older

By exactly nine years

Though some would dare to say,

That is as old as I appear.

My brother fits nicely here

Being nine years older than me,

If I turn around my age

I would be as old as he.

So I am satisfied with my age

I don’t have to turn it around

And to tell you the truth,

My mental faculties are sound.

You might not believe that

But it is the precise truth

And this very poem I am writing

Bears evidentiary proof.

So stop the silly giggling,

It is not befitting you

Cause you know just like I do

That what I am saying is true.

Sixty-seven today

Nowhere near seventy-six

So I dare not turn around my age,

That would put me in a fix.

I give God praise and thanks

For these sixty-seven short years,

Short years instead of long

Since time just disappears. 

  

And staying with the odd number

Sixty-seven, I mean,

I’ll make this poem eleven verses

And keep the odd number theme.

Stewart Russell © February 2020