I am, I think I have remarked,
Terrifically old,
( The second Ice-age was a farce,
The first was rather cold. )
A friend of mine, a trilobite
Had gathered in his youth,
When trilobites were trilobites,
This all-important truth.
We aged ones play solemn parts —
Sire — guardian — uncle — king.
Affection is the salt of life,
Kindness a noble thing.
The old alone may comprehend
A sense in my decree;
But — if you find a fish on land,
Oh throw it in the sea.