My Granny's nearing ninety,
I don’t know what to do.
She’s started wearing leather
And has got her first tattoo.
My Granny’s nearing ninety.
It’s time we had a talk.
But Granny isn’t listening,
She’s deaf from heavy rock.
My Granny’s nearing ninety,
She really should take care.
I shout, “Slow down!” as she roars past
On her Biker Chick wheelchair.
Poem ©2013 Rebecca Colby
Illustration ©2013 John Shelley