1. On a Good Day (Optimism)
I grow younger as I age
Instead of limping now I leap
challenging at every stage
Playing on when others sleep.
I work at this ambitious task
Don’t think of me as smug
I want some new wine in my cask
Before God pulls the plug
Too many take it lying down
Acceptance of their lot
Resignation, coloured brown,
When they could be red hot
Our span of life is short enough
Why sigh and die – or moan?
Our children pose and think they’re tough
Then ask you for a loan.
Stereotypes I never liked
The aged are “this” or “that”
The liquor of my life is spiked
High’s preferable to flat.
Though passions still the young folk know
They keep them for the bed
Spirit should also come, make flow
Erections in the head.
But then again I must away
No standing, growing cold
Grandchildren have come to play
Who don’t treat me as old.
2. The Rest of the Week
I’ve grown with age a greater wimp
Instead of leaping see me limp
Forgetful now, on warfarin high
Bruised of limb and red of eye
Lost car keys and open fly.
I’d like to say I’ve got it right
And yet I cough for half the night
With mates there’s golf. I look the part
My gear’s all trim before I start
Can’t walk it though; I need a cart
I like to think I have true wit
Most humourists are counterfeit
It’s all ad lib; don’t need a prop
I entertain in home or shop
Till even friends ask me to stop
And verse? I’d say it isn’t bad
To have a poet for a Dad
When I roll out my recent tries
My kids breathe hard; then roll their eyes
“Another, Dad! What a surprise!”
I don’t employ the age excuse
That’s to suggest that I’m no use
I’m sure I have some talent, style
That all will notice in a while
Though mostly I just make them smile
Copyright © David Paul
Published here with permission from Veida Paul (firstname.lastname@example.org)