Old age Poems
Life is just a journey
by Saleh Ben Saleh
With age I’ve grown tired,
weary but not insane.
My bones are rather achy,
but my heart is too humane.
At night my vision is blurry,
with pills I kill my pain.
My hearing aid does help,
for sound to reach my brain.
But offensive words do fall,
......
The Old Man In The Chair
by Leo Warne
That old man in the chair
with the still, spotted hands
hunched over on his porch
and gazing into nowhere.
His youth has ran,
on the ground he lands.
No one seems to care,
and onto them, his dead eyes stare.
Reminiscence Again
by Pijush Biswas
Though the day I had at it's fill
Only you the one come by my way
And rather the old friends did conceal
Behind curtain, on the day.
Later Sun rise, after all, on you
Half hidden from the shine I call
As the withered leaves by dew
Restore itself, next to fall.
......
Ballroom Dancing
by Joe Cyr
Bonnie and I enjoy ballroom dancing
But we are not ballroom dancers
There is a difference
One manifests enjoyment -
A joyful response to the urge
To get up and move with the music
as when a waltz or rhumba begins to play
When that happens, we must move
lowering and rising, 1-2-3
......
Glimpses of My Mom
by Richard Randolph
'Who are you? ' she asks.
'I'm Rick, ' I say.
'That's funny, ' she says. 'I have a son named Rick.'
She stares at me.
'You look something like him.'
'Mom, I'm your son Rick.'
'Oh, my Rick! ' she exclaims.
She reaches out her hand, and I take it gently.
It's cold and I can see blue veins just beneath the skin.
'How are you doing, Mom? '
......
Im Alter
by Mario Odekerken
Die Tage werden stiller,
nicht leer,
nur langsamer.
Die Hände tragen die Spüren
von Arbeit,von Zärtlichkeit,
von Jahren,die niemand zählt.
Der Spiegel zeigt Gesichter,
nicht nur das eigene,
......
Old Age and Rebirth
by Mario Odekerken
The skin grows thin like paper,
a landscape of years
folded into wrinkles
where silence lives.
Eyes look further
than the present reaches,
see shadows of voices,
walk paths
the feet have already forgotten.
......
Ballroom Dancing
by Joe Cyr
Bonnie and I enjoy ballroom dancing
But we are not ballroom dancers
There is a difference
One manifests enjoyment -
A joyful response to the urge
To get up and move with the music
as when a waltz or rhumba begins to play
When that happens, we must move
lowering and rising, 1-2-3
......
Senior Moment
by Joe Cyr
I just removed them for a moment and then put them down,
now I’ve groped everywhere, but my glasses can’t be found.
As I get older, things seem to be getting more confused;
I need someone around here to discover what I lose.
Don’t tell me it’s a senior moment and just memory loss;
for I recall, at six years old, first meeting Santa Claus.
And what I did as wallflower at my first high school prom,
......
Eyes of Love
by Joe Cyr
(anaphora)
Eyes of Love observe not tousled hair
Eyes of Love behold Splendor there
Eyes of Love see not imperfect face
Eyes of Love view Beauty everyplace
Eyes of Love judge not complexion
Eyes of Love ignore imperfection
......
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Edith Matilda Thomas (1 poems about Old age)
12 August 1854 – 13 September 1925 / Chatham Center / Ohio