by Leslie Bell

At thirty-five
I am alive
And whilst I am young
My bones creak and moan,
********and rhyme
***********and pun.

My hair
Once so glossy and dark
Had an affair
And left me with bright sparks.

Hit the bottle the women say
One not made of hops and whey.
‘Tis a potent brew
That which gives you life anew.

So now my sparks have been dimmed,
My hair color is light,
I seem to have thinned,
And am to my man, a delight.

Leslie Bell hails from the east coast where she lives with her husband, their two children and a schizophrenic toy poodle. In her spare time, she knits and crochets far too elaborately, tries new recipes, and dreams of living simply.