Page the Second


A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi. (In front of you, a precipice. Behind you, wolves.)

Sunday, April 17, 2016


This is another ABAB poem since for some strange reason the other poem I set for this day already posted early.


Getting old is not for the weak
Your muscles once were made of brawn
You've long past hit your body's peak
Now you look like a mushy prawn

You've got aches you never found
In places that were once pain free
You struggle just to lose a pound
You rise three times at night to pee.

There must be a seemly reason
After we have gone to pot
To carry on in this late season
You might have found it, I have not.

Although there are grand babies fair
The rest'rant discounts can be tempting
And traveling as a matched pair
While other youngsters pre-empting

Bucket lists have time for growing
Time for wisdom, being bold
Time to watch those sunsets glowing
Maybe I'm not quite so old.

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

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