English Poetry Competition May 2015

[naz]

• 
  
  Welcum to the monthly Competition
  
  this month you will share pOems of
  
  '' Age''
  
  Note:-
  
  Each member can share only one poetry
  Same and edited sharing won't be considered
  Winners would be decided by admins.
  Closing date of the competition is 28 May 2015
• 
  
  

[°Têhrêêr°]

walaikum slam

[~Qųeeň♡]

My Get Up and Go Has Got Up and Went

How do I know that 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 think of the places my get up has been.Old age is golden, So I've heard said
But sometimes I wonder, as I get into bed.
With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup
And my eyes on the table until I wake up.Ere sleep dims my eyes I say to myself
"Is there anything else I can put on the shelf?"
And I'm happy to say as I close the door
"My friends are the same, perhaps even more."When I was a young thing my slippers were red,
I could kick my heels as high as my head.
Then when I was older, my slippers were blue,
But still I could walk the whole day through.Now I'm still older, my slippers are black.
I walk to the store 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 really, I don't mind when I think with a grin,
Of all the grand places my get up has been.
Since I have retired from life's competition
I busy myself with complete repetition.I get up each morning and dust off my wits,
Pick up the 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.


Seriously @naz; apoo, amazing Topic, which i never thought it cud b ... i went thru many amazing ones, and i felt this one as the Best ...!!!

thnX

[YouthFul]

Old Age

By Edgar A Guest

I used to think that growing old was reckoned just in years,
But who can name the very date when weariness appears?
I find no stated time when man, obedient to a law,
Must settle in an easy chair and from the world withdraw.
Old Age is rather curious, or so it seems to me.
I know old men at forty and young men at seventy-three.

I'm done with counting life by years or temples turning gray.
No man is old who wakes with joy to greet another day.
What if the body cannot dance with youth's elastic spring?
There's many a vibrant interest to which the mind can cling.
'Tis in the spirit Age must dwell, or this would never be:
I know old men at forty and young men at seventy-three.

Some men keep all their friendships warm,
and welcome friendships new,
They have no time to sit and mourn the things they used to do.
This changing world they greet with joy and never bow to late;
On every fresh adventure they set out with hearts elate
From chilling fear and bitter dread they keep their spirits free
While some seem old at forty they stay young at seventy-three.

So much to do, so much to learn, so much in which to share!
With twinkling eyes and minds alert some brave both time and care.
And this I've learned from other men, that only they are old
Who think with something that has passed the tale of life is told.
For Age is not alone of time, or we should never see
Men old and bent at forty and men young at seventy-three..