Ah, Sixty-five Years Old!

Ah, sixty-five years old!

To me, it is a marvelous age:

No longer a foolish, dreamy-eyed kid,

Yet still not a stuffy old sage;

Not too old to keep on dreaming,
But old enough to know about

The world and how it operates
And how to figure some people out.

Ah, sixty-five years old:

A brand new chapter in a wonderful tome

Called Life, which started years ago

And spans cradle to nursing home.

My high points: my table of contents;

Mental pictures: my illustrations;

All my memories: my glorious chapters;

My comments and poems: added notations.

Ah, sixty-five years old!

Every day’s filled with new adventures.

I’m ready to handle whatever’s to come:

Hip replacements, cataracts, dentures!

So what if there’s an ache or pain

Or two or three or four or five.

Life’s too short to let pain stop me;

I’m happy just to be alive!

Ah, sixty-five years old,

With more gray hair upon my head,

Where the crop is getting quite sparse.

(More hair grows on my ears, instead!)

But life is easy; there’s much less stress.

There’s time to reflect, to garden, to cook.

I don’t have to shave every day

Or give a damn about how I look.

Ah, sixty-five years old,

With a few dents in the bumper guard.

But the motor’s still running in this ol’ car;

It’s not ready for the auto junkyard.

I’ll keep enjoying this incredible journey,

Sailing along in cruise control.

To live every day to the fullest:

That’s my aim, my dream, my goal.

By Bob B (8-15-14)