My true love has suspended me
With terylene rope from the apple tree
To try to make me crinkle-free:
I’m forty-one today…

Beneath green trees I take my ease,
Resting my poor tap-dancers knees,
Swaying with every summer’s breeze.
I’m forty-one today..

With hair up in an icy bun,
I lie there like some haughty nun,
Dreaming my dreams of naughty fun..
I’m forty-one today..

Dependant from a leafy sky,
In my uncertain sling I lie
Like some cruel spider’s menu’d fly..
I’m forty-one-one today..

Dead leaves and twigs invade my bed;
Giant apples menace overhead.
Though sailor-confined I’m not dead –
Just forty-one today..

Billingshurst 1992