Never Too Late

I've found some wild oats in my trousers;
I resolve to sow all of them fast.
I'll have to be nifty, since now that I'm fifty,
It may be this chance is my last.

Yes, I'll rise for a lark every Monday,
And spread them about me at speed.
At my age, it's risky, but I will be frisky,
And free with my packet of seed.

My best friend is Frank. He's a farmer,
And knows about stirring the birds -
Besides, there's his daughter. Resolved! I shall court her
With subtly lascivious words.

No time like the future's my motto,
Though perhaps it has caused me some grief.
Too long evolving, eh? Time for resolving
These crises. Oh, what a relief.

Yes, chasing the maids round the meadow
Should stiffen that muscle, my heart.
If I fall in the thistles, it'll be worth the whistle -
Good exercise, too. Shall I start?

Well, that was a pleasure to treasure,
And more than that I mustn't mention.
Now I've used up my fettle, and am planning to settle,
With a wife and an excellent pension.

From Rime Present