Apple and Lotus
Music that gentlier on the spirit lies,
Than tir’d eyelids upon tir’d eyes;
Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies.
~ The Lotus-eaters, Alfred,Lord Tennyson
Society’s decided I would be
Best rotting on the compost heap. I am,
Well, past my sell by/use by dates, you see,
At 63. The thinking that the cam
Inside my phone can’t cope with the wrinkles.
It freezes up and some young savvy male
Is demanded to iron out the crinkles
My age has caused the program. I will fail
At everything the modern age prizes.
The sole talent I have available
Is making poems in all their guises.
I can’t design anything saleable.
If trained, I could create an Apple app,
I guess. I’d really rather take a nap.