How do I know my youth is spent?
Well, my get-up-and-go has done got up and went.
And yet, I can still grin,
when I think of all of the places my "get-up" has been;
And all of the things my "get-up" has done
with family and friends; it's been fun, fun, fun.
Old age is golden, or so it is said,
but I begin to wonder as I crawl into bed.
With my ears in the drawer, my teeth in the cup,
and my eyes on the table until I wake up.
Then I get up and dust off my wits,
and pick up the paper and read the obits
And if my name is missing, I know I'm not dead.
So I eat a big breakfast and go back to bed.
But wait, I'm not finished yet.
There is so much more for my get up and go to get up and get.
Then I can smile with a weary content
even if my "get up and go" has done got up and went.
As editor of the Alien Times, it is my perogative to include a contribution from an avid reader - my 85 year old mother in Arizona. She has taken up poetry during the last few years, and wrote this one a year or two ago. I think it's very appropriate during this time of "New Year's Resolutions". I sure hope I can be this creative when (if) I get to be 85!
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