Growing Old

A Few Of My Many Poems

Growing Old



Growing Old is never a pleasure

But its not always hard to measure

The signs of ageing

Are easy to see on my uncle Fred

The wrinkles

The ever so bad jokes

The shrinking

Oh the shrinking

One inch ? Two inch? Maybe three?

How short will you be?



Mermaids



I once had a uncle called Fred

Who I loved so very dearly

He was the king of the sea

His wife was but a mermaid

To every eye that sees

Her beauty was unmistakeable

He lived in a 4 story mansion

With a load of junk in his house

Well some would call it junk

But he would call it treasures

The treasures of his life



Uncle Fred



My uncle Fred is 78

And Is Always Late

But For The Purpose Of This Poem                   

His Just Knowing

I’m Gunner Take The Mick 

He Is Always Collecting Junk

But To Him It Is The Treasures of his life

His Life In Treasures

So He Remembers Every Thing

Never To Forget Those Moments

That You Swear You Will Never Forget

He Radiates Happiness

And Is Always Smiling