When I am grey and old

I want to sit on the porch swing

That I have never owned

While my thoughts are still bold.

When I turn old and grey

I want to always walk in the morning,

Along trails never traversed,

Always wondering what to say.

At the point when I walk

With a cane, every day

I will wait for the time

When all of my words will just be talk.

It is always my wish, my dream

To grow old with you, my muse

Though something I will never do

Despite any notion or scheme.

12/28/2006

Author's Note: I grow old...

Posted on 12/28/2006
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