Array ( [sid] => 183448 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => On the Go [time] => 2016-08-17 17:16:33 [hometext] => about wisdom gained through aging process [bodytext] =>


Arthur, PLEASE: To help keep this site INTERACTIVE, please read and comment on at least 3 poems by our other authors for each one you submit. Please support our other authors. Thank you.
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You can’t bury him yet
The wise old owl well fed
Eyes keen, a healthy spleen
A wrinkled face shows a has-been

But not so fast
Old hickory not passed
But vigilant and wise
Wisdom his greatest prize

He saunters slowly like a snail
His stories, jokes are all old mail
His humor, full of jest
Tall tales believed are just the best

He loves his kids
And grandkids in the midst
Penuriously slaved
Years of elements braved

He’s yearned it, earned it
While life has taught him quite a bit
So when you pass him say “hello”
Not finished yet, his life is on the go

[comments] => 4 [counter] => 144 [topic] => 21 [informant] => arthur [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems ) Your Poetry Dot Com - On the Go


On the Go
Date: Wednesday, 17th August 2016 @ 05:16:33 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: arthur



Arthur, PLEASE: To help keep this site INTERACTIVE, please read and comment on at least 3 poems by our other authors for each one you submit. Please support our other authors. Thank you.
YOUR POETRY DOT COM reserves the right to reject any poem for any or no given reason.
You can’t bury him yet
The wise old owl well fed
Eyes keen, a healthy spleen
A wrinkled face shows a has-been

But not so fast
Old hickory not passed
But vigilant and wise
Wisdom his greatest prize

He saunters slowly like a snail
His stories, jokes are all old mail
His humor, full of jest
Tall tales believed are just the best

He loves his kids
And grandkids in the midst
Penuriously slaved
Years of elements braved

He’s yearned it, earned it
While life has taught him quite a bit
So when you pass him say “hello”
Not finished yet, his life is on the go



This poem is Copyright © arthur


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