My Runner’s Body

Look at my legs
So firm and thin.
It’s running I thank
For the shape that I’m in.

See my calves.
Don’t they look great?
Would you believe
I’m past 48?

My waist looks just fine.
My neck’s long and lean.
I weigh no more today
Than I did at 15.

But dear Mother Nature ain’t always so fair.
She causes me pain and loads of despair.
For miles of hard running, she commands a high price
On ten body parts that don’t look so nice.

So look all you want at my waist, hips and knees.
If you dare take a picture, I’ll even say cheese.
But please don’t you take the wind from my sails
By taking a look at my runner’s toenails.

Accents passé? How déclassé

A rose is a rose.
The wine is rosé.
When it comes to accents,
writers seem so blasé.

Why skip the accent that belongs on café?
Should the bride’s gown be called lame,
when the fabric’s lamé?

And don’t get me started on resume for résumé.
Webster’s is nuts to call that lapse OK.
Pundits may say accents are passé,
when they should just admit that they don’t know français.