Technology's leaving me standing,
Progress is passing me by.
I feel relegated to yesteryear;
Not knowing the how or the why.
I'm quite alright with the telephone-
Landline , I hasten to add,
For a mobile has me all fingers and thumbs,
I know...I know....ain't it sad!
I can cope with the kettle ,the toaster's a breeze
And the pressure cooker's OK
The microwave, though, I secretly fear-
Might well run amok, one fine day.
I'm on good terms with the washing machine,
Show me an iron...I'm cool.
The telly's a friend, though that video thing
Can make me look quite a fool.
But PC's and laptops and aught of that ilk
Just leave me a quivering wreck.
I'm quite convinced they have minds of their own,
And how do you keep them in check?
I'd never dare to switch one on,
I wouldn't be so rash,
I know that they may go awry
(I've heard that things can crash).
And should I chance to touch a key
-This really makes me fret-
I hear that I might punch a hole
Right through the internet!
So I'll just give the high-tec stuff
A nod, and e'en a wink,
And continue to write letters
On paper and with ink.
Let other's use the fast lane,
I wish them all God's speed,
I'll settle down in Fogeyland
And simply go to seed .