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