The Good Old Days for PAD 26

There’s much to be thankful for in growing old.
For a start it’s better than the alternative.
At least I still have a hold on life, and there’s more:
wage slave days are long behind me:
days when work was all I seemed to do.

I can choose to do a bit of this, a bit of that,
write poetry, make quilts, potter in the garden
make a cake or go for a walk.
I might not walk as quickly as once I did
but there’s no hurry, is there?

On the other hand, there’s no getting away from
the aches and pains, the dimming eyes
and fading hearing, and as for the memory –
where did I put my keys?
But at least I remember the good old days.


All poetry, prose and pictures posted here, except where otherwise stated, is my own, and may only be used elsewhere with my expressed permission. Please don't be inhibited from correcting my bloopers and making suggestions: Most of what I post here is instant, ill-considered and off-the-cuff, in serious need of editing.
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8 Responses to The Good Old Days for PAD 26

  1. morning says:

    well done verse.


  2. brian says:

    ha. my day will come…and i guess with any age you take the good with the…wait what was i going to say next…oh dear…smiles….i kinda look forward to those days…


  3. Ahh yes, I remember the good old days well, but… what did you say your name was again? hehe.
    Nice one Viv 🙂


  4. Pat Hatt says:

    Could the keys be in the freezer, hmmmm..haha…wish I was not a wage slave.


  5. I am 35 and the cracks and pops have already started! not to mention my memory is just horrible! my husband says i have “never-timer’s” lol, because i NEVER remember anything 🙂
    Loved your post and am following you now 🙂



  6. Mike Patrick says:

    It is with a great deal of pride I join your world.


  7. Pseu says:

    Where DID I put my keys?


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