She rang to find out where I was,
As we were due to meet.
I roll one eye and sigh,
Because I’m just above my feet.
I’ve been here since the day we met.
Her memory’s not good.
She really does tend to forget
I’m always where I’m stood.
I send a photo of my feet
To try to jog her mind.
They’re almost size eleven,
So I’m not that hard to find.
© Copyright Philip Barton, January 25th, 2026 All rights reserved
