Now that I’m older, still dying my hair

With many fears about why and how.

Will you still be sending me books on crime

Poirot, Marple, even Harry Lime?

If I’d not phoned till quarter to three

Would you have a search party at my door?

Will you still need me, no need to feed me

Now your 64?

 

I am older too

And because you brought me into the world

I will forever love you.

 

I was never that handy mending your clothes

When your tights had run

You could never knit a sweater, but you held me tight when I cried

Sunday Mornings, playing football with great pride

Digging the music, asking if I was smoking weed

Who could ask for more?

Will you still need me, no need to feed me

Now you’re 64?

 

Every summer you sent me off to Guernsey to stay with Nan

Because she was so dear.

You both scrimped and saved.

Grandchildren on your knee

Anthony, Ben, Connor and a husband Dave.

 

I promise to send a postcard, I’m bad at finding the time

I rely on Jude as I rely upon you.

I was never that good at saying what I meant to say

Yours lovingly, don’t worry, not fading away.

You loaned me your albums, you helped me fill in forms

My Mum for evermore,

Will you still need me, no need to feed me

Now you’re 64?

 

Ian D. Hall

Inspired by The Beatles.