MondayIIII August

If I were a mobile phone text message receipt bleep
I would be the standard, old fashioned, bell phone tone.
If I were a superjet coloured fax, scanner and printer,
I would be reflections on water or a trained carrier pigeon.
If I were an ipad scroll button,  
I’d be corners of rough Egyptian parchment.
If I were the components of a dynamo driven tea-making pouring machine,
I’d be the gnarly bones of a wizened bint bent to hold the sugar spoon.
If I were a robot’s feeling heart,
I wouldn’t be an identifiable circuit.  
If I were the miracle antibody for noxious biological weaponry,
I’d be the bergemot to the canker root of a witchy boil.
If I were young I’d look very, very old.