Now I am Old

With apologies to Jenny Joseph

Photo by Pixabay on
Now I am old, I can wear pink trousers and socks of luminous green
and shapeless, flowing ponchos of red or aquamarine.
When I am hungry, I can eat chip butties or marzipan candied pears,
or real iced cream and candy floss from sellers on the square.
If I do, sometimes, top up my wine, let nobody protest.
When eyes are heavy, lids can safely droop. . .  and meet. . .  and rest.
I let the dogs sleep on the bed, together in my nest.
The weeds in my garden grow until they blossom into flowers.
I've given away the treadmill now. I sit and read for hours
unless I’m solving puzzles, spending longer than I plan.
Or, lately, spinning tales and crafting rhymes, because I can.
I rearrange the syllables and listen to them play.
I move around the different sounds and while away my day
with puzzles made of words. (What’s wrong with purple, anyway?)

How do you plan to grow old?

7 thoughts on “Now I am Old

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