Twenty-five

My father once told me,

As he turned eighty-one.

So many years ago,

As we talked in the sun.

I still think like a young man,

I’ve a mind of twenty-five.

But my body can’t keep up

Ever hard I do strive.

I’d like to see Manhattan,

So I’ve drawn up a map.

But when push comes to shove,

I’ll just settle for a nap.

My life has slowed down,

As he explained what he meant.

My get up and go,

Seems to have got up and went.

I can see what he means,

There was wisdom in his words.

As I’ve come to the conclusion,

That growing old’s for the birds

--Ken Ferguson--

Artista Di Parole.