Wrinkle city, here we come
Our mirror does not lie.
For growing old is part of life;
A fact we can't deny.

It matters not our hair is grey,
And our eyes are growing dim.
We're grateful still for each new day
In the world we're living in.

It's often lonesome in our world
As we try to understand;
How busy things must be out there,
but still we reach out a hand.

And hope someone will take the time
To stop and say hello.
To reminisce or listen
How it was so long ago.

We, too, have had our busy days
And nights were full of fun.
We looked forward then, as we still do
To each new rising sun.

Our golden days are now more serene;
We've learned to cope with strife.
But empty days can take away
The sunshine from our lives.

Our teeth can't chew;
our ears don't hear as well as they used to.
Frustration seems to take it's toll
As we try to talk to you.

We can't remember everything
That we had planned to say.
It came to mind when you weren't here
And that was yesterday.

Our hands might shake as we try to write.
It hurts our joints to bend.
So you don't often hear from us;
The letters we meant to send.

We can't move as fast;
Our feet won't go, can't seem to pass the test
They've walked a million miles or more,
And now it's time to rest.

We watch the leaves turn red and gold,
Then fall and catch the breeze.
Snow flakes glitter, and tumble down,
and then it starts to freeze.

But soon the winter passes on,
And spring in on it's way.
The birds will sing and grass turns green...
We'll have a brighter day.

The zest for living still exists,
Though slower is our pace.
Don't scratch us off your tally sheet,
For we're still in the race.

As long as youth is a state of mind,
We'll have that vital spark
That lights up both our days and nights
And keeps away the dark.


Author Unknown
Submitted by my loving parents,

Bob & Virginia Harris