Pondering Old Age

How do I know if my youth is all spent?
Well, my get up and go has got up and went.
But in spite of it all I am able to grin when I recall where my getup has been.

Old age is golden - so I’ve heard it said –
But sometimes I wonder when I get into bed,
With my ears in a drawer and my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on the table until I wake up.

Ere sleep dims my eyes I say to myself,
“Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?”
And I’m happy to say as I close my door,
My friends are the same, perhaps even more.

Now that I’m old my slippers are black
I walk to the shops and puff my way back.
The reason I know my youth is all spent,
My get up and go has got up and went.

But I really don’t mind when I think with a grin,
Of all the grand places my get has been.
Since I have retired from life’s competition,
I accommodate myself with complete repetition.

I get up each morning and dust off my wits,
Pick up my paper and read the “obits”.
If my name is missing, I know I’m not dead,
So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed.