Punching Age

It started at one,

strong and sure

The promise of more

its lure

Birthday punches are a rite it’s true

But as they wore on, so did you

I took its weak finish

with a laughing smirk

Forgot I was 59

didn’t you, jerk?


dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Quadrille #160: Poems that Pack a Punch

dVerse Poets Pub graphic
dVerse ~ Poets Pub

Yesterday on Quadrille Monday, De Jackson, aka WhimsyGizmo, got a little punch drunk at the bar and invited us to punch out quadrille. Yesterday was my birthday. My bestfiend, not a misspell – who had the good sense to be born exactly a year later, and I were joking about the childhood silliness of delivering birthday wishes via punches on the arm. One punch-wish for each year, sometimes the token punches are delivered gently, sometimes not. Because I am blessed to age like fine wine, I do not look my years. Unless a boxer, I imagine most would begin to tire before reaching my current vintage and thus today’s silly quadrille.

11 thoughts on “Punching Age

    • Thanks Tricia, not the best-fiend she knows better as she is only one year younger and I punch harder – lol. No, the ‘birthday wishes’ were from a different friend we ran into while out and about. He did not know my age when I told him ‘keep going I’ll tell you when to stop’. The punches had already downgraded to taps in the thirties. His face was priceless when I finally let him know he could stop.

    • HAH! Thanks, I was fine. The person delivering the ‘birthday wishes’ semi-jokingly asked for an ace bandage when he was through. Even if I had bruised, it would have been worth for his expression at realizing I was nearly twenty wishes more that anticipated. 😁

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