We've known each other 50 years,
Been wed for forty-nine,
Though you may think we're two old dears
We still can drink the wine.
We are free as any bird
These are our golden years,
And though they may be numbered
We face them without fears.
We can't deny that time's a thief,
My man walks with a cane,
And though my grey hair gives me grief
Our love is still the same.
If we don't feel like getting up
We can just stay in bed,
And sleep or read, or sip a cup
No bosses words to dread.
I work in my pretty garden
I can still wield a hoe,
I dig and plant and sow and then
I watch my flowers grow.
There are some things not good, of course,
I've aches and pains galore,
I can't run miles or ride a horse,
But still my soul can soar.
Wolf whistles aren't forthcoming now,
(Yes, I recall them well) !
I've had some fun and games you know,
But shh! I will not tell.
My face has lines, (well just a few!)
I turn nobody's head,
And though I don't deny that's true,
At least I am not dead!
So though the years they may have fled
And hubby has no hair,
Teeth by the bed, not in his head,
But I don't really care.
So when (and if) you should grow old
It's not all doom and gloom,
You too can love these years of gold
And thus defy the tomb.
I did this poem for my Granpa and Grandma.!
Photo Credit from: Pixabay
Congratulations @anthonyzh! You have completed some achievement on Steemit and have been rewarded with new badge(s) :
Click on any badge to view your own Board of Honor on SteemitBoard.
For more information about SteemitBoard, click here
If you no longer want to receive notifications, reply to this comment with the word
STOP