Senior Citizens: Do you have a favourite poem or ode about growing old you'd like to share please?

Gerry thank you for the links.

Good ones.

HOW TRUE IT IS

Another year has passed

And we're all a little older.

Last summer felt hotter

And winter seems much colder.

I rack my brain for happy thoughts,

To put down on my pad,

But lots of things, That come to mind

Just make me kind of sad.

There was a time not long ago

When life was quite a blast.

Now I fully understand

About "Living in the Past".

We used to go to friends homes,

Baseball games and lunches.

Now we go to therapy, to hospitals,

And after-funeral brunches.

We used to have hangovers,

From parties that were gay.

Now we suffer body aches

And sleep the night away.

We used to go out dining,

And couldn't get our fill.

Now we ask for doggie bags,

Come home and take a pill.

We used to travel often

To places near and far.

Now we get backaches

From riding in the car.

We used to go out shopping

For new clothing at the Mall

But, now we never bother...

All the sizes are too small.

That, my friend is how life is,

And now my tale is told.

-Author Unknown.

DeeJay.

THE ONE CERTAINTY Christina Rossetti (1830-1894) Vanity of vanities, the Preacher saith, All things are vanity. The eye and ear Cannot be filled with what they see and hear. Like early dew, or like the sudden breath Of wind, or like the grass that withereth, Is man, tossed to and fro by hope and fear: So little joy hath he, so little cheer, Till all things end in the long dust of death. To-day is still the same as yesterday, To-morrow also even as one of them; ** And there is nothing new under the sun: Until the ancient race of Time be run, The old thorns shall grow out of the old stem, And morning shall be cold and twilight grey.

I'm Fine Thank You

There is nothing the matter with me

I'm as healthy as can be.

I have arthritis in both my knees

And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze,

My pulse is weak and my blood is thin,

But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

Arch supports I have for my feet,

Or I wouldn't be able to go on the street.

Sleep is denied me night after night,

But every morning I find I'm all right,

My memory is failing, my head's in a spin

But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

The moral is this - as my tale I unfold,

That for you and me who are growing old,

It's better to say, "I'm fine" with a grin,

Than to let folks know the shape we're in.

How do I know that my youth is all spent?

Well my 'get up and go' has got up and went.

But I don't really mind when I think with a grin,

Of all the grand places 'my get up' has been.

Old age is golden, I've heard it said,

But sometimes I wonder as I get into bed,

With my ears in the drawer, my teeth in the cup,

My eyes on the table until I wake up.

Ere sleep overtakes me, I think to myself

Is there anything else I could lay on the shelf?

When I was young, my slippers were red;

I could kick my heels right over my head.

When I got older, my slippers were blue;

But still I could dance the whole night through.

But now I am old, my slippers are black;

I walk to the store and puff my way back.

I get up each day and dust off my wits,

And pick up the paper and read the 'obits'.

If my name is still missing, I know I'm not dead -

So I have a good breakfast and go back to bed.

Dear Gerry, thanks for sharing your beautiful poetry collection with us. Here is a portion from one of my favorites, that I'd like to share with you:

....Come, my friends,

'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.

Push off, and sitting well in order smite

The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds

To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths

Of all the western stars, until I die.

It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:

It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,

And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.

Though much is taken, much abides; and though

We are not now that strength which in the old days

Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are,

One equal-temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

-- Tennyson's 'Ulysses'

(The last six lines always send chills up my spine.)

Robert Browning's little poem is the first to come to mind:

Grow old along with me!

The best is yet to be,

the last of life, for which the first was made.

Our times are in his hand who saith,

'A whole I planned, youth shows but half;

Trust God: See all, nor be afraid!

I have a favorite SONG about growing old:

This is the first version I heard...Mac Wiseman. I remember the first time I heard it as a young boy, tears poured down my cheeks. Even now, my eyes are misty.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AieaJxNrnNE&feature...

God grant me the serenity to forget the people I never liked anyway, The good fortune to run into the ones I do, and the eyesight to tell the difference. Amen

Good morning Gerry,I love this poem as it's oh so typical of the inevitable, impending age process.

http://www.ahajokes.com/age32.html

My personal favourite is:

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

I'm not yet dead,

And neither are you.

This is usually followed by much rejoicing, raising of glasses, etc.

Mines quite simple by comparison;

Never complain about getting old.......the alternative is much worse!!