Growing Old

How sad it is to be alone
And watch the world go by,
When once you had a happy home,
A family by your side;
The children were a carefree brood,
They laughed and sang so gay,
Thy kept you in a happy mood
To end each tiring day;
The years went by so fast it seems,
The children are all grown,
Each one pursuing his own dreams
And you are on your own;
Where once your hands worked lovingly
To cook and wash and mend,
Your fingers now work haltingly,
Your shoulders start to bend;
The time has passed, so many years,
And you are growing old,
The memories flood your eyes with tears
Worth so much more than gold;
For growing old comes to us all
Thatís something we all know,
Smile gracefully, walk proud and tall
Although your steps are slow;
For life is like a well-read book
With treasures on each page,
Tucked in some snug and cosy nook-
They do not fade with age;
So if you feel alone and blue,
From loved ones far apart,
In memory they are close to you,
Forever in your heart.

© 1998 Fay Herridge
Published in Downhome Magazine, Jun 1998


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