Saturday, May 19, 2007

"When I'm 64"

"When I'm 64"

When I get older losing my hair,
Many years from now.
Will you still be sending me a valentine
Birthday greetings bottle of wine.

If I'd been out till quarter to three
Would you lock the door,
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I'm sixty-four.

You'll be older too,
And if you say the word,
I could stay with you.

I could be handy, mending a fuse
When your lights have gone.
You can knit a sweater by the fireside
Sunday mornings go for a ride,

Doing the garden, digging the weeds,
Who could ask for more.
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I'm sixty-four.

Every summer we can rent a cottage,
In the Isle of Wight, if it's not too dear
We shall scrimp and save
Grandchildren on your knee
Vera ,Chuck & Dave

Send me a postcard, drop me a line,
Stating point of view
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, wasting away

Give me your answer, fill in a form
Mine for evermore
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I'm sixty-four.

A Whisper Comes on Sunday only lasts for a brief moment......

It grabs you with a blanket
And tells you to rest
"The bed is already full"
So your lay down on the sofa....and darkness outside rains in......

The 4AM coffee has worn it's course
And the 4:30AM smoke has no meaning
But the 5AM meeting with the most comfortable bed
Beckons its call

"You need your rest.....and I am your resting place"

And so, I lay my head on the rough pillows,
I adjust myself among multi-layers of cats
And their vibrations of purring.....
And their claws of "biscuit making"......

The ol' clock chimes at 5:30 AM.....10 minutes later than reality.......

And then I pass on to the Netherlands............

Monday........... and work beckons..........

The Long Driveway

July, in Georgia, can be a furnace......if you let it get to you.....

Before the days of computer games, mp3s, iPods and cds, there was baseball and frisbee golf (a new sport, but rapidly growing among the college kids)

Before the sun would hit it's peak, in the blue, southern skies
The Boys of Summer would gather on Covington Highway to hit the ball across the road...or to search for the missing Homerun........

Simple times, with simple win or you lose....but you played until time was called.....8 innings....12 innings....or just 3.........the temperature gauged the game.......

I missed the gauge when my teammate told me he was throwing in the towel.....

I thought he meant he couldn't play kids' ball anymore.....

He did.

He tossed me his last ball about 6 months before he handed in his hat and jersey.....

And his bat is in my has a long fret, and 6-stings.......

And it tells me daily......

"Play On!"

And this I will do....