You find you're getting hairier though not atop your head.
You somehow sustain injuries while sleeping in your bed.
Your arm is not quite long enough to make the fine print clear.
You walk into a room then think - Now why'd I come in here?
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I have waited quite a long time to get old,
So I think I should try to enjoy it.
I can't turn it in for a refund,
And I surely don't want to destroy it.
It is genuinely a beautiful poem depicting the harsh reality of life that many of us don't really know how to handle the unwanted changes that old age brings with it. One always lives in this...
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Will I slowly wither like a leaf
That falls upon the earth?
Once void of all its Autumn hues,
It loses all its worth.
I realize I've reached the time
When it's very plain to see
That I now must be selective
In what my preferences will be.
As a child, I recall, I used to think the coolest thing to be,
truly nothing could be more fun than invisibility.
I could sneak up on my sisters and scare them if I chose.
In a dusty, dark corner of a very old house,
sits the tall, wooden worn out clock.
It has seen its share of memories and pain,
keeping perfect time with a tick and a tock.
We're all clocks just trying to keep up with time, knowing full that in the end, time will win.
Mama with her babies in her rocking chair, she sings
The soothing sound of lullabies,
Her voice so sweetly rings.
Singing in her rocking chair,
A little old lady, I do not mind being.
What I find I don't like are the changes I'm seeing.
My marbles are still rolling in the right direction.
I enjoy this old world, though it has imperfections.
I enjoyed your poem. I certainly know where you're coming from. When it comes to tech, I'm not tech-savvy either. It seems like every time you get things down pat, they change the whole...
Restful sleep has proved elusive.
Lack of it is not conducive
To my overall wellbeing,
As I stare up at the ceiling.
Pretty little high heels,
How you look so grand.
I can remember when I wore you
And I could proudly stand.
When sleepless I lie,
As the hours slip by,
I go walking the paths back home.
I hear the meadowlark's song
I wake up each day
On this journey of mine,
Grabbing each moment
Of my limited time.
I just love your work, as I've said so often before. I hate to think of you ever feeling down, as you do so much to lift up others with your writing. All the very best, Ann.
I know we're old now and our bodies don't work as they should.
But if I could dance with you once more I surely would.
To dance as we did without a care.
I stand before the mirror
A stranger stares at me
I've been replaced by someone else
They're standing where I used to be.
I remember the times
You'd flip me onto your shoulder
Freefalling skyward
Taller, older
This poem so reminds me of the relationship my Daddy and I had. He had a major surgery in 1971 and because of that and the effects of the anesthesia, his decline began. It took a while for us...
I know that nothing ever lasts,
and my memories, they're fading fast,
but I have my photographs,
and I know we used to laugh.
To find room
for her flannel nighties,
a well-worn woollen dressing gown,
her furry slippers
Oh Pat,
I sometimes think if it wasn't for people like you I might just give up writing poetry. I get so low when my poems don't receive any votes. In fact I tried to get one deleted,...
Early morning sun
Dull light through the window
A shadow crosses her face
I catch a glimpse
Having lost my husband almost exactly a year ago, I was incredibly touched by this poem. Especially as we too were married for well over 50 years. I look at photos on my photo frame all the...
I'm getting older, nature deems.
I'm coming apart at the seams.
The things that never hurt before
Now multiply, make more and more.
Daddy I remember, before you fell ill,
the spark in your eyes, the laughter, the thrill.
Daddy, I long for that day, when that spark comes back.
Regret Poems
Grandmother Poems
Sickness Poems
Mother Poems
Grandfather Poems
Life Lesson Poems