Saturday, May 04, 2019

Someone composed a poem about me .................

A Young Eighty (for Pip)

Born long before me
You were always much younger,
But somewhere we met at the same age
Which can happen to any people over, say, twenty five
Who can predict that age at which
We no longer age? When the mind
Is made up, ‘Enough!’, Stops right there,
The body trundling on into an elderly distance,
Occasionally casting a backwards glance,
‘Are you coming?’ No, replies the mind.
‘I am at the age I was meant to be.’

We will never be as old as our parents
Who were never as young as us
If we have children, we may not reveal
How little we know, how young we feel
That we would welcome youth
Being wasted on us again
And the chance to remind someone
About the wisdom the years
Have yet to return us
That we would like to be
Old enough to know better
Young enough to believe

by Martin Wroe

Thank you Martin
Beautiful Human in my life.