NaPoWriMo Day 18 – How To Tell When You’re Getting Old

My gran is the inspiration behind this poem, I saw her the other day for the first time since I went home for Christmas. I forgot what a wicked sense of humour she has, she may be old but she has the sharpest and quickest wit of anyone half her age!

Please don’t feel offended after reading β€œHow To Tell When You’re Getting Old”, I wrote it purely as a light-hearted, humorous piece – nothing to be taken seriously! I hope you see the funny side. πŸ™‚

Here are a few ways

To put your mind at rest

To reassure yourself you are certainly not old

Even if you’re blind, mad and deaf.

When your investment in health insurance

Is finally beginning to pay off,

And when in winter you permanently

Have a runny nose and a dry cough.

When people ring you at ten in the morning

And say, β€œDid I wake you?”

When you go shopping and every other person you see

Wants you to buy their Big Issue.

When people think the sun on your bifocals

Is a twinkle in your eyes,

And when your supply of brain cells

Is finally down to a manageable size.

When the pharmacist has become

Your new best friend,

When if a pen is on the floor

You find out that downwards you really can’t bend.

When there’s nothing left to learn the hard way,

And the nearest thing you get to a thrill of pleasure

Is getting your doctor to tell you not to do something

Just so you can disobey, and think you’re clever.

When you come to the conclusion

That your worst enemy is gravity,

When you can’t understand why everyone calls it the loo

When its proper name is the lavatory.

When you give up trying to hold your stomach in

No matter who walks into the room,

When the highlight of your day becomes watching the news

Just so you can see all the doom and gloom.

When you wonder how you could be over the hill

When you don’t even remember being on top of it,

And when you find yourself acquiring an unhealthy taste

For funeral music.

When the only things you can eat are so soft

That you’re able to cut them with a spoon,

And when you’re not even aiming to have a lie-in

You still wake up at noon.

When your ears are hairier

Than your head,

When you start to look forward to

Life after being dead.

When you have a party

And the neighbours don’t even realise it,

They only loud thing they hear happening

Is everyone falling over doing the Hokey Cokey

Failing to balance on their walking sticks.

When it takes longer to rest

Than it did to get tired in the first place,

When, instead of using the scraper to get ice off the car,

You use it to smooth out the creases on your face.

When your childhood toys

Are now in a museum,

When you ask about the chances of getting a hot date

And the answer is a definite β€œDream on!”

When you confuse having a clear conscience

With a bad memory,

When you think you see a ghost from your past

But really your glasses have steamed up

Making everything misty.

It doesn’t matter what age you are

Just how you feel in your heart,

Young in the mind

And everywhere else

Because growing old gracefully

(However much disgracefully)

Is an art!

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6 Comments

  1. avian101

    I believe that all those descriptions that are the product of getting old become qualifications to deserve more love from the young ones!
    Very nice poem Becky, I hope I’ll get those qualifications some day! πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

    • I love that thought! Our elders deserve love and respect, things which they don’t always receive. I think you’re a good way off being this “qualified” though HJ! Thank you for your lovely comment πŸ˜€ x

      Like

  2. Great Becky! Gave me a big smile πŸ˜„ Have you read the poem Warning by Jenny Joseph, first line about wearing purple etc? Xx

    Like

    • Thank you Christine, I’m glad this made you smile! I hadn’t heard of Warning before, I’ll look it up πŸ™‚ xx

      Like

  3. Love it lol

    Liked by 1 person

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