Being Antique

Growing old is a privilege not everyone shares

To get there you’ve taken a whole lot of dares

You’ve listened, you’ve shared your love and your cares

Read bedtime stories of three little bears. 

Sometimes you’ve wondered what if I’d done that

Gone to sea in a boat and owned a boat cat

Brewed Irish whiskey in an old whisky vat

Worn only red, with a big silly hat? 

But the wonderful thing about growing old

Is sometimes you’ve had to be really bold

And done your thing when others went cold

Carried on and on, when told to fold

You knew what you wanted and chose to hold.

Yes, wrinkles are scary for smooth, lovin’ youth

But there’s nothing so honest as long in the tooth

Though sometimes you were a wee bit uncouth

In good times and bad you spoke your own truth. 

You struggled, you loved, you’ve been of great strength

And in all those years you tried to make sense

Of hardship and loss, and love and hence

Growing old is a privilege not all can dispense. 

Enjoy your life, be it long or short

It only comes once, and the people who fought

Want you to love it and learn what they taught

So love it and love it; enjoy life’s sport.

Val Gee, Oak Park

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