The Golden Years

The Golden Years



Often in our “golden years” we feel isolated,

Silver hair and long bearded,

It seems often we’re slipping,

Too many times we feel we’re ailing,

Our aged bodies and minds a crumbling,

Alas, be positive and beaming,

We aren’t covered with moss,

We’re just beginning to show our gloss,

Our exterior hides that inner glow,

We have much that we can still bestow,

Our lives have been lengthy for a reason,

We’ve just begun to season,

Live on the mountain tops not the valley,

Tho often our decisions were costly.

We should finish our run free as birds,

After all, we upheld our standards!