21. The Grandfather Clock
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.
Aging Poems - Page 2
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Featured Shared Story
We're all clocks just trying to keep up with time, knowing full that in the end, time will win.
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22. This Journey Of Mine
I wake up each day
On this journey of mine,
Grabbing each moment
Of my limited time.Featured Shared StoryMiss Fleming: I was looking at a poem I wrote, SWEET THINGS FOR YOUR EAR, and I saw you left me a wonderful review. We seem to have the same outlook on life. I look back on my life a lot. I...
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23. 50th High School Reunion
We gather here once more
To remember a younger day,
When life was mostly before us
And the future a game to play. -
24. I Still Hear My Mama Singing
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, -
25. Keepsake
One day my dad was hunting, from his favorite hunting stand;
'Twas a giant Oak with perfect limbs, under which two deer trails ran.
Now this favorite spot of Daddy's was as unique as it could be,
'cause a lightning bolt had burned a giant hole down through that tree.Featured Shared StoryMy aging husband, who just turned 70 in October, still takes his grandsons out bowing and hunting ever year. He helps build the tree stands and everything, teaching them the way of the...
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26. Elusive Sleep
Restful sleep has proved elusive.
Lack of it is not conducive
To my overall wellbeing,
As I stare up at the ceiling. -
27. Time Is
Famous Poem
Time is
Too Slow for those who Wait,
Too Swift for those who Fear,
Too Long for those who Grieve, -
28. Pretty Little High Heels
Pretty little high heels,
How you look so grand.
I can remember when I wore you
And I could proudly stand. -
29. I Am Not Old
My eyes are fine; they are just printing words small.
I just use a walking stick to seem stately and tall.
Nothing is wrong with my sense of smell.Featured Shared StoryVery nicely described and also the way it became funny was absolutely fantastic.
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30. Old Dancers
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. -
31. Reflection
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. -
32. Remembering
When sleepless I lie,
As the hours slip by,
I go walking the paths back home.
I hear the meadowlark's song -
33. She Tried To Fit In
To find room
for her flannel nighties,
a well-worn woollen dressing gown,
her furry slippersFeatured Shared StoryOh 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,... -
34. Old Folks Laugh
Famous Poem
They have spent their
content of simpering,
holding their lips this
and that way, winding -
35. On Your Shoulders
I remember the times
You'd flip me onto your shoulder
Freefalling skyward
Taller, olderFeatured Shared StoryThis 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...
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36. Fading
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. -
37. Glimpses
Early morning sun
Dull light through the window
A shadow crosses her face
I catch a glimpseFeatured Shared StoryHaving 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...
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38. A Geezer's Gripings
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. -
39. Daddy, I Remember
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. -
40. It Could Not Be Me Anymore
It could not be me he's thinking of
When he looks up at the soft moonlight.
And it can't be me that he's dreaming of
When he falls asleep at night.Featured Shared StoryAnother brilliant poem - I love the way you write - keep them coming, please.
Very best wishes, Ann
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Grandfather Poems
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