Each month, write a new collection.
Waves of goodnessWhen I am old, I will...Be responsiblefor the oceans and the landI will put on a face without disgraceAnd the impossible will be at handWhen I am old, I will...Tell, not be toldAbout how we saved the worlda ready place for the ways we facethe turmoil of wars for oilWhen I am old, I will...Reach for the goldThough money may never comeThe more wealth I have in how I laughis something one should becomeWhen I am old, I will...Be bold, taking courage to the limitsNot shirking from working, not lurkingBut turning to the day to always live itYou see, the time to share our heartsand bear our soulsabout how we liveis in the way we grow and changeto show by example and not give inWhen I am old... I will hope I am toldI did everything I could to conquerthe corruption and greed by planting the seedand sharing the deeds I am forYou see, I'm for the sea, for the breeze, for theair we breathe. for the wildlife livingfor all of these give me happiness in my lifeas long as I am givingI wish I can changemy own estranged ways against good willLife lived right, that's all I fight for When I am old, I will...
I agree powerful and inspirational
That's powerful man!. Well done!
amen. great one.
When I am old(er)I will know trees. I will walk on surprisingly liquidJoints (hips, knees, don’t forget ankles) and callOut their names. Not just pine, and oak and mapleThe subspecies like I know now that the deerI see are blacktailed deer which is a subcategory of the indigenoustypeWhose name I have forgotten already, but I digress(I will digress less when I’m older, I hope I promiseTo myself), and perhaps I will even know when trees areSick and need help like the pine tree I talk to on the sideOf the house. It almost died last year, then didn’t die and now isSort of quasi-gimpy but still it lives. I said to it “don’t die”A bunch of times and stroked its branchesAnd told its neighbor “talk to him” (why him? Who knows) And I guess they did because they are still there, growingTaller even if gimpy looks a bit dead in places. But stillThere is the green. So when I am old(er) perhaps thisPower will become amazingly strong and I’ll talk theseTrees into life and they will talk to me and I will talk toYou and that power of green talking will help me live with you forA very long strong time yet.
You have a green thumb for poetry
That's great. Really wonderful!
When I wasWhen I was fiveI wanted to be WonderwomanWhen I was tenI wanted summer to last foreverWhen I was fifteenI wanted to be a circus clownWhen I was twentyI wanted to be totally freeWhen I was twenty fiveI wanted to be a good wifeWhen I was thirtyI wanted to be a chefWhen I was thirty fiveI wanted to write a bookWhen I was forty....Well, I'm still writingWhen I'm forty fiveI hope to be published by thenWhen I'm fiftyI hope to finally become Wonderwoman
Love this :)
That's great. You are wonderwoman!
I was asked what I will do when I am old I remember that poem … a wonderful sort of jag really about old age about a woman free to wear purple gobble up samples in shops and make up for a life of sobriety but I’ve always worn the colors I choose. I’ve ruined good shoes in the rain and picked flowers in other peoples gardensmy entire life so I wont stop running my stick across public railings (it’s kind of a hobby of mine) but I will welcome her and join her in finding her new-found old-timey freedom after all what fun would old age be if you had to act respectable?—sr
you said it. i'm already that woman gobbling up the samples!
Absolutely! And that's a great hobby.
I grasp thequiet sunsethold it inmy palmwhisper tothe fadinglightclose myeyes recallthe twinkle