I Feel Like Stretch Armstrong

Yesterday I went to my first ever yoga class. I have got to admit that I wasn’t looking forward to it. I thought I would be the only bloke. As it it was I wasn’t. It felt a bit strange at first but I soon got into it. 

This poem is loosely based on that experience. 

I Felt Like Stretch Armstrong

I feel like Stretch Armstrong

A bit of yoga it didn’t take long

To get into positions not natural

Seemed at first very irrational


To do a downward facing dog

Breathing easy to clear the fog

Things got tough I became a warrior

Aching limbs I became even sorrier


Struggling to balance on my mat

Thinking where to place my fat

That I’d even bothered to turn up at all

She said it’d be good I would have a ball 


Another stretch this time a locust

Praying to god this torture must

End and be able to stand up normally

Oh no another movement of deformity 


Relax she said as I balanced on a brick

Hoping that it’d be over pretty quick

Our next move was against a wall

Keeping us up to prevent a fall


I’ve got to admit it was better than expected

Not a sport I would have voluntarily selected

It set me up for a pretty good day

Well until the next time namaste. 


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