It is so late, my eyesight's dim,
The old dog sleeps on the floor;
My cunning cat has gone to bed;
I've secured the outside door.
My table's a mess of old papers,
I have re-read every page.
Letters from those I have loved
In another, more active age.
The message in some letters glows,
Mother's neat writing for sure.
Mum passed away some years ago,
Memory lives many years more.
My elder sister's squiggles tell
Stories I had forgotten;
As with many little brothers
Many times I was rotten.
My children are all adults now,
They have made their way in life.
Grandchildren are growing ,too,
Sadly, to a world in strife.
I trust they learn from love and hope
Life's spirit makes its own way.
The pathway they choose to follow
May lead them to happy days.
There's some sadness in the letters;
Joy and gladness still show through,
Memories from another man's life,
I've changed with time, that's true.
Soon, I will move to a new place,
So tiny, more like a cage.
I'll move, only the memories
Not letters yellowed with age.
© Copyright 2007 Bob - now retired (UN: rbruce
A contest entry
- Dalaney Contest 7 "Old" by Sue Cardwell.
650 points, ended August 10, 2008, 10 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
I hope I never ahve to do this.
Comments
1 - 13 of 13
-
A gold trophy winner and it is no wonder beacue you have written one simply aforable piece here. To look back and remember these things with love and also with different eyes and see the life that once was you. Times change but the memories will always remain and keep that life there for you to live occasionally. A great write, Bob that had much to say and was full of all the things I know always come out in your piece....heart, love, wonder and joy for life. Thank you so much for sharing.
-
-
Now you are getting into the old stuff. I was thinking of moving into a small flat at one time and when I went through the accumulation of papers, letters, old bills and ancient postcards I came to the conclusion that I could not leave the rural scene for suburbia. I would have to sever too many ties to my other lives. Maybe one day. A great many thanks to you dear lady, for finding this one, and leaving such a wonderful comment.
-
-
Wow well-deserved GOLD!
I told you this is special
-
-
You are so right. I was surprised at the win and highly delighted, of course. Thank you so much. Your support and encouragement helped me a lot.
to you too. Please don't tell Lis.
-
-
Congratulations on the gold trophy, it is so very well deserved. A beautiful poem fitting the prompt and your rhyme and flow are both excellent.
Thank you for sharing ... Sue and Jeff
-
-
I can only say I am both surprised a most grateful, thank you.
As I have already done what has been said in th e poem with the exception of actually moving into a home, this poem is a possible scenario for me in the not too distant future. I hope to remain active and able to care for myself for a long time, but who knows.
I thank you again, I am so pleased as this is my first gold.
Cheers and best wishes
Bob
-
-
So touching, brings a tear to my eye. When the time comes for us to sort through our hoards of stuff, old letters, old pictures, in order to move into those assisted living quarters or something similar, it will take such a strength of will to toss them away and file them into memory. Most times those old things mean little to our offspring.
-
-
Like many others of my age I have already sorted out my old letters and things. Offspring don't want any of them and would only put them in the bin. Thanks for a supportive comment.
Cheers
Bob
-
-
Very touching piece Bob. Great write it moves smoothly from beginning to end. Here in the US we call that place "the home for the permanently groovy." Good luck in the contest and happy trails.
David -
-
I used to read aloud to people in one of these "Residential Aged Care Facilities", and would never enjoy such confinement.To me its just waiting to die. On the other hand there are places for the old and lonely where they all have a ball. I like open spaces and fresh country air.
-
-
forgot the applause
-
oh this is so touching, bob, i'm misty eyed as i write this. a tender yet brave presentation of the inevitable sadness and joy of a very sentimental subject. i think you painted here one of the best shades of yellow--as the color of both memory and time. and i think only someone of your wisdom can do that with genuineness. in this piece alone i have seen you as a son, a brother, a father, a grandfather, and a human being. in a few words you have somehow shared your whole life, and how you, at this point in your life, face the inevitable with boldness and reflectiveness. i certainly admire this, but i admire you more.
-
-
I am a little emotional while reading your comments. I am somehow very humbled that my writing about the inevitability of the progression through life has had such an effect. I thank you for such complimentary comments. You have hit the nail right on the head here, for I am a son, a brother, a father ,a grandfather, a great grand father, and a human being; all rolled up in one. You are very astute.
-
Adding your comment:
1 - 13 of 13
