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When you cannot find your pencil,

      And your purse has gone astray;

 When you’re feeling rather sleepy

       For it's been a hectic day:

 

When the morning comes too quickly

     And you cannot cope with rush;

When, it seems, that all are shouting

     And you’d rather have some hush;

 

Then perhaps you can’t remember

     What you had to eat for lunch,

So, in case it was just nothing

     You find biscuits then to munch.

 

Other people start to worry

     As your memory seems to fade.

When you trip, they run to help you

     And to offer you their aid.

 

In your old age these things happen,

    Well I'm sure that's what we're told,

But these things happen just to old folk,

     But you are only eight years old!

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Copyright on all my poems

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