41. 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.
Aging Poems - Page 3
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42. This Journey Of Mine
I wake up each day
On this journey of mine,
Grabbing each moment
Of my limited time.Featured Shared StoryAnn: I just ran across your comments. I'm glad I reached someone with my poems. I don't know which poem you were referring to, but I'm glad you enjoyed it. Did you read No More Whippoorwill,...
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43. She Tried To Fit In
To find room
for her flannel nighties,
a well-worn woollen dressing gown,
her furry slippersFeatured Shared StoryPeggy,
I wondered if you write poetry yourself. I don't seem to be able to find any of your work online...
Very best wishes,
Ann -
44. Dear World We Must Part Ways
Dear World,
I fear it's over!
It's time to go our separate ways.Featured Shared StoryOh Pat, another brilliant poem! As always, you've said it all. Growing old is a pain...
Love and best wishes,
Ann -
45. The True Warrior Inside
You may not know how old she is
But I'm quite sure you'll recognize.
It doesn't take a rocket scientist
To see the ravages of time.Featured Shared StoryOh Pat, I just love your poetry. I am so damned old myself it's great to read a poem that sums up how I feel about my aged self. Keep writing! Love and very best wishes, Ann.
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46. The Golden Tear
He moved with deliberate motion
Each step a painful chore
His body bent and crippled
To the depths of his human core.Featured Shared StoryHello Ann,
Thank you again for your kind and encouraging words. I dedicated this poem to my dearest father who passed away at the age of 98. You are NOT elderly! Best wishes from across... -
47. 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I've been replaced by someone else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. -
48. 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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49. 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 -
50. Hand Of Age
The unfriendly hand of age
Creeps up and takes hold
Of my fingers, twisting them
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