It isn't true that being old
Is being left out in the cold!
It isn't true that life is done!
Being old is lots of fun!
Mortgages all done and dusted!
No more lovers to be trusted!
No more children demanding time!
Hours to spare for writing rhyme!
Maybe some minor aches and pains,
But losses far outweighed by gains.
Friendship comes into its own!
Maybe friends you've always known,
Friends from girlhood, known for years;
Or maybe a brand new friend appears.
As to the future, it's in a hurry,
But then, it's mad for us to worry.
We can't do anything about it
So worry.... we can live without it.
Life is one long holiday
And I like my hair now it's turning grey!
*
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Not me either!
TRAMPOLINING!
We laugh, we weep, we hope, we fear!
Trampolining! Like last year!
One second down! Then up we go!
But now we're old at least we know
That just as night will follow day
Life will always work this way.
When I was young and I felt down
All creation seemed to frown.
'This is the end' I used to sigh;
'I'm a failure! Life, goodbye!'
If Cupid ever turned his back
I wore eternal mourning black.
Conversely, if I won a race
Or someone liked my youthful face
I'd feel quite certain I was winning.
A life of triumph was beginning!
I was the greatest. I was best.
Head and shoulders above the rest.
And so I sort of bounced through life,
Up for joy and down for strife.
But old age has its compensations;
(I write this for younger generations.)
'Win some, lose some' becomes the creed;
Very useful words indeed.
O.K. I never soar to heights
Experiencing wild delights.
But neither do I spiral down
Feeling a blackguard or a clown.
You'd say I'm on an even keel;
A comfortable way to feel.
With caution I'm still trampolining.
(Life's variety gives it meaning.)
But each leap is a little hop;
Not far to fall each time I drop!
And when I'm down, it's the briefest session,
Too mild to label as 'depression'.
The young may scoff, they like to leap,
Reach the sun, fall in a heap.
But I have found serenity.
'Win some, lose some', that's for me.
*
1 comment:
I share your point of view.
Getting old is so much better than not getting old at all.
That said, I wish the day had 48 hours this time of the year. Time flies so incredible swiftly.
P.s. Like your Ladies Home Journal picture too.
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