Now you've reached that special age,
The one where time stands still,
When birthdays do not add a year,
But stay under the hill.
A woman, it is said in truth,
Ages like fine wine,
Except that wine does not remain,
Some gals are so afraid to age,
That overnight their hair turns blonde,
As if they could just stop the clock,
With the wave of a magic colour wand.
Grey hairs may sprout, skin may sag,
A wrinkle or two may appear,
But you're only as old as you feel,
And you feel pretty young from here.
I'd hoped to post some more in rhyme,
But just didn't have the time,
So all that I have now to say,
Is "Hope you did enjoy your day."
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