Droobs

When I’m old, I don’t want droobs
Down round my waist
Like long stretched tubes

I’d wear a tight bra
And tuck them right in
Or draw them up high, tie them under my chin

I might roll over
And use them all squashy
Not bother with pillows and save on the washing

Flop them over my head
On the left and the right
To keep my ears warm when I’m out on a night

Hide them under my arms
Just cause I can
Go out in disguise and pretend I’m a man

Tie them tight round my waist
To make me look slimmer
But they might pop undone when I’m eating my dinner

Run fast outside
To see if it’s right
That droobs cause black eyes if you don’t hold them tight

Swing them around
Draped in sparkly lights
Like catherine wheels on bonfire night

Stick on some fur
And treat them like pets
Stroke them and take them down to the vets

Draw on some faces
And name them each side
Ant and Dec or Bonnie and Clyde

Stretch them forward
And tie a big knot
Launch myself with a droob slingshot

Tuck them under my boots
And use them like skis
Trek in the snow through woodland and trees

Sing songs about droobs
Hold one in each hand
Clash them like cymbals in a brass band

Swim in the sea
Bob around with the boats
Lie back, relax, let them keep me afloat

Swing them like clubs
To hit balls on the ground
Go to the Open and play a full round

Lay them out on the grass
Garnished with seeds
Multitask – sunbathe and watch the birds feed

I could use them with cups
For coffee and tea
Like saucers, but better, completely hands free!

Paint a picture with them
In private of course
And auction it off for a really good cause

There’s one thing for sure
My theology’s changed
Droobs could be fun in so many ways

However they hang
At whatever age
I’ll love my droobs till the end of my days