Life is good! Life is inspirational!

Posts tagged ‘Old age’

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!

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Mary

Oh raggedy old woman with
Your weak and toothless smile
With folded skin and greying locks
Has life been such a trial?

Your groans, your protestations and
Your yells and grumpy do
Your shouting out so very loud
Disguising the real you

I wonder who you really are
Beneath your upset veil
What person did you used to be
Before you got so frail

Dressed in confusion’s linen and
Dementia’s shrouding cloak
What have those eyes seen in the past
What stories have you spoke

What person did you used to be
Before the clutch of age
Took hold with mask eclipsing
The oak’s sagacious page

And what conflicts have you witnessed
Throughout your long long years
The battles, wars and struggles that
Still steel your heart and tears

The loves that came and loves that went
The jobs you did so well
I wonder what great yarns you have
What history you can tell

For through the windows of your eyes
Your sweeter soul’s laid bare
I wonder raggedy old maid
Why no-one seems to care?

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

Enter a caption

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

Old Man

He travels to another place
Heads further back in time
Leaving the present where it is
In shifts cross paradigms
To days gone by where memories
Dance vividly and wild
Affection, comfort, resonance
Back when he was a child

For now as an old man he sits
In chair by the fire side
Where behind vacant eyes a life
Plays out so large and wide
And though it’s inaccessible
To us – hid out of view
He lives in vessels of the past
Whilst sitting there with you

So do not cry my sweet sweet love
Wipe tears away from eyes
For you’ll be always in his heart
Even if in disguise
For what you have and what you had
Is true to cherish dear
And though he may now be elsewhere
Your love’s the constant here

  
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/da/An_old_man_diagnosed_as_suffering_from_senile_dementia._Colo_Wellcome_L0026689.jpg.

Silver Greys

Hair; whitening over time
Losing colour as the tints imbue inward
Into the soul; the spirit; the heart
Painting a picture of life
With the tonal brushes of history
In blends of black, brown, blond and red
Revealing the spectral panorama
That stretches out across a lifetime
Rich in unique yet poignant threads
The masterpiece behind the silver greys

 

Youthful Oaks

Silver greys temple bound
Folded contours to be found
Crow’s feet resting by each eye
Dappled skin from age spots spied
Hard of hearing, aches and pains
Slowing down to take the strains
Midriff spread and puffy paws
Signs of ageing evermore

But past the tide of ageing signs
Wisdom’s wealth lays realigned
Knowledge, skill, experience
Moulded from resilience
And memories that pave the way
From yesteryear to present day
So let us all uphold these folks
Who bring today; great youthful oaks!

Oak trees at Oak Alley Plantation

Oak trees at Oak Alley Plantation (Photo credit: Morten Rand-Hendriksen)

The Sagacious Oak

You look and see a dying oak
A tree that’s stood in time
A tree now covered in green mould
With branches bared from slime

You see the broken sticks that fall
On floor around my trunk
The leaves that do not come in spring
My frame so stark – defunct

And yet I’d tell a different tale
As I have stood my ground
The days I’ve seen whilst standing here
The treasures I have found

I’d tell of years gone by and how
They’ve shaped our history
The acorns that I then produced
What they went on to be

I’d say of those who’ve climbed by boughs
You’ve swung right off my arm
Who’ve hidden in my mighty oak
To save them from all harm

I’d relay the winters that I’ve seen
In life and lives so real
I’d tell you how they shaped our earth
And tell you what I feel

So whilst you see an old, oak tree
Dilapidated; in decay
I still have wisdom in my bones
To inform you today

For lose the past and memories
The present can’t exist
And still the future won’t then shine
Save Oak’s sagacious mist

Oak

Oak (Photo credit: Bushman.K)