D.A. Prince: My Knees

Fom those first crawling forays on the floor
to grab the cat, a toy, a leg, a pan –
these knees have followed one quite simple law:
to get on with their job the best they can.
A decent pair of hinges; no fatigue
on mountain walks, no falling-off of power.
Prize-winning beauties? Nowhere near that league.
The mini-skirt? Hardly their finest hour.
But now, be-jeaned or swathed in woollen tights,
they’re still a pair who multi-task together.
The right’s down first for prayers and Sunday rites.
The left sends early signals of wet weather.
All they’ve achieved would take too long to tell
and still they serve − although not quite as well.