Not among our list of charms, are the cursed things called bingo arms
One of the things that slowly sag, are the underarm droopy bags
I used to wave with super speed, now a gentle move is all I need
For speed sets up a rolling motion, resembles a rough and moving ocean
I lift my arm to do my hair, utter a cry of deep despair, life’s so cruel it isn’t fair
Where have they gone, the wonderful days, when I could wear my clothes in dif- ferent ways
Now everything must have a sleeve, it stops the staring I believe
I keep away from my favourite shops, for all they stock are sleeveless tops
Children can be a great delight, not after a comment on Friday night
Nanna she said, with a very deep frown “what are those floppy things hanging down?”
Now I too have a frown, I will not take this lying down, I have a money-making plan
There’s advertising I could place, on this now productive space
Out with the computer, on to the net, to find the most lucrative bet
So many products to explore, some for the rich some for the poor
So many options I have found, in for a penny in for a pound
Now when I raise my bingo arms, it sure does set off loud alarms
On my right for all to see, buy Toyota the rego’s free
On the left smiling with glee is Ronald Macdonald, come to Maccas for tea.
By Freda Harvey