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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