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Archive for the ‘aging’ Category

When I Am Old

I’m not going to be that old lady
With nothing but gossip to while away hours
Planted in front of the TV soaps
Who plays bingo or drinks sherry
Wearing strings of pearls
With rouged cheekbones and painted nails

Instead my days will draw to a close
Like a vibrant painting
Where splashes of life
And streaks of colour
Will splatter in abstract abandon
As the ink dares to cross the lines

The twilight years where being me
Casts away the cloak of expectation
And dances in the meadow of inspiration
Shouting poetic expression across the plains
And where fresh air rouges my face
Whilst bubbling springs wash over my bare feet

And I will run through forests of books
The inscriptions of the wise
In a quest for eternal knowledge
Jumping into the deepest oceans
To swim against the tide
To bathe in enlightened waters

For the spirit of ageing
Will bloom like the autumn cherry
Fighting the tides of winter
In one final exclamation
Of everything that is life
And of everything that makes life great!

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Aging

So I appear to be getting older
With more greys than blond for sure
With creaky joints and eyes that aren’t
So focussed anymore

And I see my midline growing
That – I don’t like, I confess
Whilst my heart’s a flipping nuisance
With AWOL beats from stress!

It also takes a little longer
To get from a to b
To mow the lawn or walk the dog
Or even make the tea!

Yet the culprit for these issues
Appears not to care a jot
Just sits there by his armchair
Almost rooted to the spot!

He never lifts a finger
Nor offers to assist
Moreso waves his arms in circles
To ensure no second’s missed

And to drive the point home further
He calls out to ensure
That hourly I’m reminded of
Time knocking on my door!

For whilst I am but human
And aging is my destiny
His face simply never changes
And he stays all wrinkle free!

His frame remains in-tact
Age makes no odds to him
He never gains an ounce of fat
And really stays quite slim

And so long as he’s wound daily
His ticker tick tick tocks
For you see the bane of all my aging woes
I blame on Grandfather Clock!

My Old Morris Minor

I asked my old man
What car he would be
If he was an old banger
Back in history
To which he replied
A Morris Minor for sure
A vintage edition
With chrome trimmings and more

For you see dear old Morris
Needs a new set of wheels
And with the odd rusty patch
He now simply feels
He’s been put on the scrap heap
Is no longer worth much
An old car from the past
That has lost his sweet touch

And he’d like to go faster
Like to whizz on right by
Like those snazzy new vehicles
Or planes in the sky
Yet his throttle keeps sticking
His clutch isn’t first rate
His steering is heavy
And gear box can grate

But Morris has value
Over all of these things
A classic amongst engines
For it’s the joy that he brings
From just being Morris
And the miles he has run
The twinkle, the laughter
And all of the fun

And though gone are the days now
Of guzzling the gas
He’s fuelled now by memoirs
And a tank that on mass
Has more value than pistons
Firing quickly to go
For Morris is a legend
And one we all know

So next time you meet Morris
Or another model like him
Be kind, be compassionate
Take time, sip a gin
Or a whiskey and listen
To his tales and take note
For Morris might now be parked up
But he still gets my vote!

Morris_Minor_1000_1958

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By Lars-Göran Lindgren Sweden (Own work) [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html), CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/) or CC BY-SA 2.5-2.0-1.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5-2.0-1.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons