The Older I get the Things I find

poem by: Elizabeth J White
Written on Apr 14, 2015

      

                  Another year older another strand of gray, the things I am finding
            as time, to swiftly , dwindles away.

             On this journey there have been dear friends that guided me along the way
         little childhood friends, that I spent time with loved and played .

            People that I loved, trusted, cherished and confided now gone with
the wind like grains of sand, how I long to see them and hold their hands.

Mama and daddy talk of their home above, I don't want to lose them I so need their love.

Oh I've lost little babies for my babies are men, and time marches on, I can't go back again.

Oh but there are some things great things that come with time

with each day that passes , oh the great things I find.

I find that with age there is wisdom you only get from living,
being selfish gets you know where you find importance of giving.

You find a silver hair that reminds you of angels wings
how you earned each one, and they mean everything.

Years of experience you now have to share, you have more time
more heart more care.

You may find another line you did not notice before, it reminds you of precious time 
with those who know the score.

Getting older is great as you journey on this land
and I am reminded by a little girl who calls me grand!

 

Tags: encouraging,

Add Comment


A previous user commented:
Ahh. Getting older and better. Yes each grey tells a story. Very nice poem. Good rhyme.
Frank Hornby . commented:
Lovely poem Elizabeth.......it's an achievement to become a grand....even better when you're a great grand!.........I love it......
Jazz Force commented on Nov 28, 2017 at 11:29pm
Time marches on?? How many cliches can you put in a whatever..
Frank Hornby . commented on Dec 08, 2017 at 9:57pm
Jazz farce!.....what is your problem with "cliches"?.....does it really matter?....NO!.......
Fadrian Bartley commented on Feb 09, 2018 at 4:44am
keep it up lovely

 

 

More by Elizabeth J White

...
Poetry

poem by Elizabeth J White

Poem, spoken in slang. Poor Mr. Egg Poor Mr. Egg , what was he think'n? To go up that high, well he must've been drink'n. See Poor Mr. Egg was a shell of a man. Why he climbed that great wall ... Read more

...
The Older I get t...

poem by Elizabeth J White

Another year older another strand of gray, the things I am finding as time, to swiftly , dwindles away. On this journey there have been dear friends that guided me along the way... Read more