In our garden
there is a raggedy old man.
I don’t know how he got there,
although I have seen him around;
he looks like he’s had a hard life,
plenty of trouble, plenty of strife;
and he’s sitting on our garden bench.
.
I want to ask him to leave,
go away,
never come back;
but, it’s troubling to see
that that old man is probably me.
Graeme Sandford 
🙂 I can relate.
Et moi aussi. bonne journée à toi mon petit écrivain. G:)
Eh bien, merci aimable monsieur
The old women in her apron.
La vieux damme sans her apron – oops! Ran out of la belle Francais. G:)
En fait, je n’aime pas les tabliers. … and I cheat with an online translator. 🙂 Thanks for the impromptu chat,
Bon. G:)