poem for parkies
 

Parkies Dress Code

Feeling quite mellow for love of the world
Showing my colours with banner unfurled
Lonely and rigid with Bradys all day
I’m shuffling around with nothing to say

My stick is from Stones of Scotland I hear
No sword in it scabbard or foil may you fear
I point at the T V and fiddle the knobs
This cane changes channel, its favourite job.

Some terrible pains are caused by PD
My arms are of iron no muscle to see
My head is of lead and heavy to raise
My knees start to crumble and easy to graze

I shake every morning, all day and all night
The tremors of P D are there to highlight
What wonderful movement to people we show
The twists and the turns like dancers we flow.

awkward when dressing especially shirts
You put in one arm and the other one hurts
the buttons are tiny, won’t fit in the slot
when you have finished you’re sweaty and hot

you pull up your trousers or sometimes you don’t
pull says your brain but your hands say they won’t
when pulling on socks its tricky extreme
you get to the point say sod it and scream

when making a knot with your favourite tie
it gets so frustrating its near making you cry
you might have a meeting with some bosses today
you might wear some cufflinks or throw them away

The last to go on are shoes you must lace
The shoehorn is mustard it saves you some grace
The hardest to come is lacing up shoes
It’s better with slip ons the next pair you choose

listerine