How did that happen??!
From the vantage point of older,Such a number seems quite young.It's all a matter of viewpoint,Not myths to which we've clung.Old is one mighty fine word,When the alternative is plain.Dealing with those aches and painsCan mean circling a circled drain.But circling seems much finerThan gone, gone, gone, long gone,And for this I'll squeal cheery:Old 's lovely in my living lexicon.Lift a glass or some such cheerTo numbers rising high,For mousies as for catsiesNot gone to their by and by.Age is that fine alternativeTo never aging ere again,And for this let's live yet longer,And irritate the waiting reaper men.From the vantage point of older,Such a number seems darn small.Oh what I'd give for that numberWhile taking comfort in some alcohol.Notice I write, some alcohol,And not formaldehyde,For the potable is a cheery quaffTo fete one from inside.Old is one mighty brave word,Which allows us chat and rage,Rather than adopt a permanenceWhich is nevermore to age.Birthdays anniversaryAs ticking clocks tick tock,While calendars' pages curl And living takes its stock.Hurray and yippee! squeals the pig, And little mousies too,For another year has circled pastAnd sends silly hugs to you! -- a nonny mouse
From the vantage point of older,
ReplyDeleteSuch a number seems quite young.
It's all a matter of viewpoint,
Not myths to which we've clung.
Old is one mighty fine word,
When the alternative is plain.
Dealing with those aches and pains
Can mean circling a circled drain.
But circling seems much finer
Than gone, gone, gone, long gone,
And for this I'll squeal cheery:
Old 's lovely in my living lexicon.
Lift a glass or some such cheer
To numbers rising high,
For mousies as for catsies
Not gone to their by and by.
Age is that fine alternative
To never aging ere again,
And for this let's live yet longer,
And irritate the waiting reaper men.
From the vantage point of older,
Such a number seems darn small.
Oh what I'd give for that number
While taking comfort in some alcohol.
Notice I write, some alcohol,
And not formaldehyde,
For the potable is a cheery quaff
To fete one from inside.
Old is one mighty brave word,
Which allows us chat and rage,
Rather than adopt a permanence
Which is nevermore to age.
Birthdays anniversary
As ticking clocks tick tock,
While calendars' pages curl
And living takes its stock.
Hurray and yippee! squeals the pig,
And little mousies too,
For another year has circled past
And sends silly hugs to you!
-- a nonny mouse