How do I know my youth is all spent. My get up and go has got up and went. But in spite of it all Im able to grin as I think of the places my get up has been. Old age is golden so Ive heard it said, But sometimes I wonder as I get out of bed. With my ears in the draw, my teeth in a cup, my eyes on the table until I get up. As sleep dims my eyes I say to myself is there anything else to lay on a shelf? Im happy to say as I close tight the door, My friends are the same, perhaps even more. When I was young my slippers were red, I could kick up my heals clear over my head. When I grew older my slippers were blue, But still, I could shout the whole night through. Now that I am old my slippers are black. I walk to the store and puff my way back. How do I know my youth is all spent, My get up and go has got up and went. But in spite of it all Im able to grin when I think of the places my get up has been. Since Ive retired from lifes competition I busy myself with complete repetition. I get up each morning, dust off my wits, pick up the paper and read the obits. If my names not there I know Im not dead, So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed. How do I know my youth is all spent, my get up and go has got up and went.
Posted on: Sun, 12 Oct 2014 12:52:58 +0000
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