Golden leaves, sweaters and chills
Winter sliding down the hills
Arthritis, medicine and pills
Are somebody else’s ills.
Shaky knees that disengage
Bones turning to cartilage
White hair growing on my crown
Are happenings I disown.
My heart beats much louder now
More than I care to allow.
I get sensational thrills
Sans those damned blood pressure pills,
And if I were not so shy
I would write to “Santa dear,
Please next time when you stop by,
Knock louder, so I can hear.”
Like this:
Like Loading...
Born and brought up in Egypt I learned English in a local high school run by Irish nuns. Along the deep faith they imparted to me one invigorating phrase remained etched in memory for a lifetime "I can and I will." It was my password through personal battles, hair-raising circumstances, or hopeless situations. Occasionally, when the going was rough the quiet pussycat in me flared up to a tigress to defend my stance. I finally realized my lifetime dream to become a full-time writer. Since authoring two books and several articles online I have reverted to my youthful enthusiasm despite advancing age. My advice to youth is borrowed from E. Roosevelt: "The future belongs to those who believe in the power of their dreams."
November 9, 2015 at 5:54 pm
love it!
November 9, 2015 at 7:07 pm
Delightful, Mary
January 18, 2016 at 11:12 pm
I love your poem. You write the words that I know and feel. Wonderful.