The Golden Age

by Tom Damron
(Plano, Texas)


Old Age is Golden, or so I've heard it said,
But sometimes I wonder, as I crawl into my bed,
With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,
My glasses on the table until I get up.


As sleep dims my vision, I say to myself,
Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf,
The reason I know my youth is all spent
Is my get up and go has already went!


But in spite of it all, I'm able to grin
And think of the places my get up has been!

Comments for The Golden Age

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Your golden Age
by: Elna Nugent, Lenox, MA

Dear Tom:

If you are smart enough to write that poem and have humor enough to express it, you have a lot more vibrant living in you than you think you have.

Ideas are likely to stream through you in the months to come that can offer more meaningful satisfaction and fun than you thought was possible.

Blessings, E.
I can really relate
by: Texas Jane

Loved the poem. I'm no poet, but you should add a line about all the skin that has gone south. If I pulled it all up, I would look much younger, but my belling button would be on the end of my nose or at least on my chin.

You made be laugh. In my book, anyone who does that is a hero to me.

Thank you so much, I needed that.

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