Saturday, 3 January 2026

Unceremonial foot washing.

Well you know you're getting older when you have to soak your toes

And the wash basin's got higher more in line now with your nose

And your bones have stiffened up, so there's just no way you can hope 

to get your feet into the sink and give them a good soak.


The water once would foam and smell

Of  scent and luscious fruits

But now quite sensibly I add

The stuff they sell in Boots

The moisturising gel that adds 

No hint of sex or lust

But it makes my toe nails softer

And at my age that's a must.


So now the bit I do not like , the cutting of my nails

My arms must have got shorter

Or my feet have moved to Wales

How did they get so far away

They mock me from a distance

And if I get within their reach they offer much resistance.

I must have rhino relatives, perhaps I'll grow a horn

I'll check my ancestry in case t'was known when I was born.


Well finally, contortions over, my task is now complete

I'm quite worn out, and all I've done

Is wash my flippin' feet!

What challenge should I line up next

Perhaps something that's fun

A hike up Everest would do or a 50 mile run!


Karen Holmes

3rd January 2026.

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