Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Get Off!

Get off that merry-go-round!
It’s for people half your age!
Get off that table!
Stop that dancing!
Stop that drinking!
Stop that singing off-key!
Join the matrons now!
Your turn is done!
The sun has set,
on your parade!

Cant you see?!
We were just,
Too polite to say it!
But now it’s time,
To hang up those dancing shoes,
To put away your clown hat,
To pick up that walking stick,
And settle down quietly
in that rocking chair.

It’s time to complain
About the nasty weather,
of tired aching joints,
and sudden pains,
faltering eyesight, fine print,
And lack of civilized company.


jaygee said...

i have to say this... i absolutely love the poems you pen... they always touch on some chord making me want to go back and read it again and again.. and then some.

Xohra said...

Age is mind over matter, if you don't mind, it d0n't matta ;)