Alas, my friends, I’m not that lass,
That lass that stole poor hearts…alas.
No more. I’m nothing like before.
Before I knew it all. No more.
Now I’m as happy as a cow,
A cow in gorgeous pastures. Now
My wits are gone, but I don’t cry,
Cry out not, “Help! Old age! Oh my!”
Instead I hum and bob my head,
Head toward the silliness instead.
I say, “My youthful wisdom, bye.
Bye, silly. Forties – sweet!” say I.
Live for the Love of it,
The Happy Amateur
Written for Poetic Bloomings
Image source: Google