To be seventy years young is sometimes far more cheerful and hopeful than to be forty years old.
quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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To be seventy years young is sometimes for more cheerful and hopeful than to be forty years old.
quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To be 70 years young is sometimes far more cheerful and hopeful than to be 40 years old.
quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To be 70 years young is sometimes far more cheerful and hopeful than to be 40 years old.
quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Imitated From The Japanese
A MOST astonishing thing --
Seventy years have I lived;
(Hurrah for the flowers of Spring,
For Spring is here again.)
Seventy years have I lived
No ragged beggar-man,
Seventy years have I lived,
Seventy years man and boy,
And never have I danced for joy.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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The French are true romantics. They feel the only difference between a man of forty and one of seventy is thirty years of experience.
quote by Maurice Chevalier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forever Young
In life there is only one certainty
and that is one day we will die,
it is only a question of
how and when that remains a mystery.
Scientist the whole world over
would love to find the solution
that could extend our lives,
letting us live longer
yet remain in good health.
As the population now
is living longer with each passing year.
Four hundred years ago
if you were forty you were old,
but now at forty we are still young.
In another four hundred years,
people who are one hundred
may be classed as being young.
The world can only wait and see.
4 November 2009
poem by David Harris
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After Seventy Years In This World
AFTER SEVENTY YEARS IN THIS WORLD
After seventy years in this world
An old man satisfied in some ways with what he has done-
Blessing those he loves
And thanking God for all he has been given-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Am Told
For forty four years now
Each morning I woke up
I go straight to prepare
A cup of coffee for my wife
It's a ritual that I do
For forty four years
Not that she asks for it
But it's what I love to do
Love is what commands me
To lit a kettle to boil a water
For she likes it when its so hot
A coffee she drinks quite early
Suddenly, now that it's our anniversary
I do the thing I 've been doing ever since
We got married for forty four years back
Yet for the first time I am told just so today
That the coffee I served her now tasted bad
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
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Forty Years
(on the 10th anniversary of the end of world war ii)
Here in berlin - people line up to get in
To wait for the end - living in glorious sin
Theyve looked around - and now there is no looking back
To when rivers ran red - now its the sky that grows black
Shadows are cast as two giants roam over the earth
We light a match - but what is that little flame worth
Once allies danced and sang
But it was forty years ago
Here in d.c. - they talk about euro-disease
And how the french are always so damn hard to please
Otions are passed in brussels but no one agrees
And no one walks tall - but no-one gets down on their knees
Once allies laughed and drank
But it was forty years ago
Where I come from
They dont like americans much
They think theyre so loud, so tasteless, and so out of touch
Stiff upper lips are curled into permanent sneers
Self-satisfied
Awaiting the next forty years
Once allies cried and cheered
But it was forty years ago
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My parents only had one argument in forty-five years. It lasted forty-three years.
quote by Cathy Ladman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem for Molly's Fortieth Birthday
'Why do you
have stripes
in your forehead,
Mama?
Are you
old?'
Not old.
But not so
young
that I cannot
see
the world contracting
upon itself
& the circle
closing
at the end.
As the furrows
in my brow
deepen,
I can see
myself
sinking back
into that childhood
street
I walked along
with my grandfather,
thinking he was old
at sixty-three
since I was four,
as you are four
to my forty.
Forty years
to take
the road out . . .
Will another forty
take me
back?
Back to the street
I grew up on,
back to
my mother's breast.
back to the second
world war
of a second
child,
back
to the cradle
endlessly
rocking?
I am young
as you are
Molly-
yet with stripes
in my brow;
I earn my youth
as you must earn
your age.
These stripes
are decorations
for my valor-
forty years
of marching
to a war
I could not declare,
nor locate,
yet have somehow
won.
Now,
I begin
to unwin,
unravelling
the sleeves
of care
that have
stitched up
this brow,
unravelling
the threads
that have kept
me scared,
as I pranced
over the world,
seemingly fearless,
working
without a net,
knowing
if I fell
it would
only be
into that same
childhood street,
where I dreaded
to tread
on the lines-
not knowing
the lines
would someday
tread
on me.
Molly,
when you are forty,
read this poem
& tell me:
have we won
or lost
the war?
poem by Erica Jong
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She was in the profession
She stopped her work at her lawn when she saw me
and leaned over the fence and we talked for over two hours
with my elbow on her posts and my feet resting
against the palings.
She had worked forty years in the same profession
and had seen generations through the doors. She
had enjoyed her work and people still call her to
tell her about themselves; they express their gratitude
and how much of a difference she had made.
She walked down the fence, waved her arms
and returned to the corner where I stood.
But what was work for?
she asked.
Forty years doing what was good for others
but nothing that was good for myself.
What was work for? she sighed.
What were forty years for? It destroyed me.
(from The Migrant - notes of a newcomer (February 1997- July 1998))
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Forty Years Of Warning
Why did God wait forty years after the death and resurrection of Jesus?
An entire generation?
Before was fulfilled the prophecy of Jesus about the destruction of the Temple and fate of Jerusalem!
The number forty is symbolic of trial testing and punishment in Biblical symbolism.
Moses lead the Israelites through forty years of punishment in the wilderness before a new generation
was allowed to enter
the promised land.
Was waiting this forty years
to definitively
prove God's patience?
To allow the Jews time to repent
to turn back to God
to exhibit appropriate
behaviour and worship
so that God could
bless them as God desired
instead of punishing
them as he had warned?
Copyright © Terence GeorgeCraddock
See also 'Temple And City Were Destroyed In 70 A.D.! ' and 'The Fall Of The Temple In 70 A.D.! '
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I Remember
I remember being ten years old
And wondering what I would be?
I talked it over with my father
And he said, “We’ll see.”
I remember being twenty years old
And wondering all about life.
I found myself getting married
And learning to be a wife.
I remember being thirty years old
With 2 sons at my side.
I saw a few strands of gray hair
Which I tried to hide.
I remember being forty-five
And birthdays coming too soon.
I was teaching kids all about music
And waiting for vacations in June.
I remember when I turned fifty
And my body started to change.
The hormonal and emotional challenges
All became so strange.
I remember becoming fifty-eight
When retirement came my way.
I thought to myself, “ Now what do I do? ”
On every single day?
I remember becoming seventy
When breast cancer came to me.
I decided I wanted to live some more
So I created poetry.
All that I remember from that point on
Is where I am today
Using this pen that’s in my hand.
It’s become my way to say
Thank You.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I just don't know why
9/22/10 Nine years of war…for what?
Twelve hundred seventy seven
young American boys
Have gone to Afghanistan….
To die
The Afghans don’t want us
And They don’t need us…
They certainly don’t like us…yet we’re there….
And I just don’t understand why! ! ! !
poem by David Whalen
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Twenty- Fifth Yahrtzeit Of My Father
Dad I have written so many words about you
I have repeated your words again and again
I have described you
Laughed and cried in remembrance of you and Ma
All these years-
But what is it to you?
What does it all mean?
Is it ‘all just a dream'
There also?
Have these passing years meant anything for you?
Do you know of us and are you aware of all that has happened?
And when I come there most likely less than twenty- five years now
Will we meet again?
And will this longing to meet you end with nothing
Or with its realization?
Or perhaps will it never end
As we will both long from there too
Of the time we had together here for forty - five years?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Some men are born old, and some men never seem so. If we keep well and cheerful, we are always young and at last die in youth even when in years would count as old.
quote by Tryon Edwards
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be Hopeful
Hopeful
Be hopeful
Want to be successful
Saw good seeds
For we are cursed and blessed
By our own deeds
Being hopeful is to over come
And encouragement
Becomes our strength
For what we could become here
Unless we over come our fear
The wind blowing
Here and there
Life becomes so unfair
All you need to do
Is to be hopeful
Hopeful
Be hopeful
poem by Matt Ancient
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Every peak crumbles
Four hundred million years ago,
Three hundred million years ago,
Two hundred million years ago,
And seventy million years ago,
The world had witnessed
In succession,
Major calamities of the major species,
The Dinosaur being the last victim.
Next, in midway, are we, the Homo sapiens?
30.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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a Birthday
It’s full moon tonight
and yellow like Citrine
some golden rays
decent down to me
and it’s forty-five years
since my full moon first broke
in the dark onyx night.
The morning sun is ruby red
till it turns shining diamond bright
in a sapphire blue sky
and too intense to look at
and it’s forty-five years
since the first time
that I saw light.
The years flash past
and in this summer of my life
I wish that perennial
could my summer be,
but autumn has already
laid its hands on me
and there are grey specs in my hair.
poem by Gert Strydom
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