Sunday, 3 February 2013

I felt the chiropodist's eyes...

on my bunions as I bopped bare foot
on the dance-floor.

The days of loving my body never, ever were mine for the taking.
Looking back I wish, that I had viewed myself with honest eyes,
if only to accept that I wasn't as bad as I thought I was.

If I knew then what I know now, how different I'd be.
For starters I wouldn't bother with clothes,
my hour glass figure of yore, would knock their eyes out.
My green eyes would flash with invitation...

'Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss within the cup
and I'll not ask for wine."

Cycling naked, in my long mac, given the chance again
 would I bother with doing the buttons up?

Happy Days!


  1. now this IS an interesting thought on which to start the week...
    I have to confess I love my body more now, and feel far more confident about it than I ever did in my younger days, even with its jolly join-the-dots pattern of op scars and obstinately irremovable wobbly bits.
    The only drawback for me cycling naked with buttons undone is I'd be too blimmin' cold!

    1. Jolly join-the-dots... is it anything like Spot-the-ball?

      Makes my heart sing to hear you say you love your bod. more now than ever.

      Before you know it Elaine, you'll be Lady Godiva riding Bruce: much more stylish than bare-back-bike-riding.


  2. I was discussing, with my dear sister-in-law, the way hair migrates to the chin from all other body areas when one hits - let's say - about 60. As a dark-haired girl this should mean I am able, at long last, to wear sleeveless dresses with gay abandon. But SOMEHOW my arms contrive to be wobbly AND wizened at the same time! So unfair!

  3. Haven't you heard Nilly... wizened and wobbly's the new pert.

    And after yesterday's vote we can gay abandon all over the place.