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Poem A Few Poems for Wearied Old Soul

2021.05.20 21:19

이한중*65 Views:2001

 

“This is my wish for you:
 

Comfort on difficult days,

smiles when sadness intrudes,

rainbows to follow the clouds,

laughter to kiss your lips,

sunsets to warm your heart,

hugs when spirits sag,

beauty for your eyes to see,

friendships to brighten your being,

faith so that you can believe,

confidence for when you doubt,

courage to know yourself,

patience to accept the truth,

Love to complete your life.”



-  Ralph Waldo Emerson  -





 

 

The Senility Prayer



God, grant me the Senility to forget the people I never liked anyway, 

the good fortune to run into the ones that I do, 

and the eyesight to tell the difference.

 

-  Unknown  -





 

I'm Fine Thank You


I'm Fine Thank You There is nothing the matter with me 
I'm as healthy as can be. 
I have arthritis in both my knees 
And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze, 
My pulse is weak and my blood is thin, 
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

Arch supports I have for my feet, 
Or I wouldn't be able to go on the street. 
Sleep is denied me night after night, 
But every morning I find I'm all right, 
My memory is failing, my head's in a spin 
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

The moral is this - as my tale I unfold, 
That for you and me who are growing old, 
It's better to say, "I'm fine" with a grin, 
Than to let folks know the shape we're in.

How do I know that my youth is all spent? 
Well my 'get up and go' has got up and went. 
But I don't really mind when I think with a grin, 
Of all the grand places 'my get up' has been.

Old age is golden, I've heard it said, 
But sometimes I wonder as I get into bed, 
With my ears in the drawer, my teeth in the cup, 
My eyes on the table until I wake up. 
Ere sleep overtakes me, I think to myself 
Is there anything else I could lay on the shelf?

When I was young, my slippers were red; 
I could kick my heels right over my head. 
When I got older, my slippers were blue; 
But still I could dance the whole night through. 
But now I am old, my slippers are black; 
I walk to the store and puff my way back.

I get up each day and dust off my wits, 
And pick up the paper and read the 'obits'. 
If my name is still missing, I know I'm not dead - 

So I have a good breakfast and go back to bed!


-  Scottish Traditional  -

 

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