Another Mother. (poem)

Another Mother.

I’m turning into my mother,

It’s clear for all to see.

I never thought it would happen to me, but,

I’m a living effigy.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m just a ticking time-bomb,

I’ve yet to wear a twin-set and pearls.

But the stilettos are gone and the flat shoes are on,

As are thick tights and belly-flattening girdles.

I say things like ‘Back in my day…’

I prefer fine wine to vodka and Red Bull.

I’ve a huge stash of celebrity work-out DVD’s,

Even so, gravity’s starting to pull.

Technology’s becoming ever so complicated,

Music’s now too loud for my ears.

I keep getting my kids’ names mixed up,

When a baby’s born, I’m always in tears.

I carry my Tesco Clubcard everywhere,

I recycle empty boxes of flan.

I watch Oprah re-runs - even the eighties’ ones,

I’ve tried every existing diet plan.

I’m turning into my mother,

Resistance is futile, I can see.

I’m embracing it, with a smile now I know,

My daughters will turn into me!