Crisp Details We Knew, Once!
Few are who they were,
As remembered from childhood.
Familiarities are there...
Somewhere.
To be aided with a nudge.
To trigger and budge...
A memory from the dusting.
But some of us have different postures,
Now.
And many of us have gray hair.
Those of us left with any at all.
With the exception of those,
Who have remained brunette and blond.
Weaved or dreaded.
And this topic can go on and on!
'He did not say that was his hair?
Well...
He did buy it!
So I guess it is his!
And those 'are' his teeth.
Yeah, okay!
Of course she doesn't have any gray.
She paid not to!
Who are they trying to fool?
We have all been out of high school,
Over fourty years!
Even though my niece and nephew
Have kids older than I am!
HOW 'did' that happen?
I do not know!
We all know God works,
In mysterious ways!
Yes, He does! '
Everyone has changed to some degree.
And some have altered themselves drastically.
It's like following the blossoming,
And blooming of a Rose.
We all knew those who we started,
This life cycle with.
And some of us are beginning to wither.
As others are trying to defy time!
They are not going to have none of it!
With goodlooking packages...
That recall an attractive past.
Barely!
'Aging?
Oh no!
Are you kidding?
I'm not going to do that.
Has anyone seen where I placed my glasses? '
But none of us are here forever.
Whether or not we are blessed,
To have kept those memories...
With crisp details we knew,
Once!
But aging fades those memories fast!
No matter how much we keep our exteriors,
Buffed to pass for...
Old folks trying to stay young!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Those That I Went To School With
Some of them with the departed and the others growing old and gray
Those that I went to school with in the long gone yesterday
From the boys and girls I went to school with many years before I reached my prime
I am separated by distance and by long years of time.
Some of them live far distant from Hibernia's windswept shore
And from the Town in View of Clara hill overlooking Claramore
And some of them remained in Duhallow married and there raised their family
And some of them remained unattached single and fancy free.
Most of those I went to school with I have not seen for years
And for the past and for what has been I've shed nostalgic tears
Like every other migrant for the past forever gone
But the present is what matters and we keep on keeping on.
Of those I went to school with good memories I retain
Though most of them I realize I will never meet again
We've gone our separate ways in life but memories of them I do recall
And happy memories of what was the best memories of all.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Old Age, Go Away
When are we consider old?
when the years past so quickly
being a kid with no worries
to a teen with rebel ways, to parents dismay
young adult leads to a partying way
maturing thru the years to become a respected adult
responsibilities and family life changes people
before time fly, aging needs a break
for real it does, it's not fair to fly
middle aged, worn out, heading to retirement
can't wait for that day, everyone says
to tell the true I rather work, that's my pitch
getting old for the rockers and the canes
just has to stay away, I have so many things to do
see more the world, meet many people
play with the kids and the grand kids
stop that hour glass from draining
I have a lot of things on my mind
time will take my mind
the wrinkles and the gray hair can wait
same with the balding
Aging for the years can wait, oh it can wait
young and childish mind, I have
will make me feel young, well into my years
till it catches my worn broken body
Old age stay away, For I am Young
poem by Michael Peterson
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My First Time Being Here
The experience of aging
Is a process many fight.
Some act as if it's not a gift...
To grow older with delight.
I'm often asked how it feels,
To be an age I don't appear.
I tell them it's my first time doing it...
It's my first time being here!
And if I knew I should feel a certain way,
Nothing in my past prepared me for this day!
It's all new to me...
I have no clue how I should be.
Nor do I look in the mirror with fears,
To chase away!
('That depends on HOW I'm looking')
It's clear I'm aging,
With a grace I accept!
And blessed I feel everyday!
No one I know will be here forever...
No matter what's done to stay!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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So I Have Become The Middle Man
So I have become the middle man
In this world
And I have so much gray hair on my head
That I don't like at all
I love blond hair
And I find it to be so attractive in men
But the truth is that I have that ugly gray hair
That God gave me
For a reason
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Happy Childhood Memories
Happy childhood memories the best memories of all
And my younger years in Millstreet I will always recall
On evenings in Summer up to the mid Fall
In the Townpark at the West End we played gaelic football
My friends of my youth where might they be today
Like me have the years left them balder and gray
Though some of them in the home Parish did stay
In life one might say we just went our own way
Since those days so many years have come and gone
And time does not wait it just ticks on and on
Many of the friends of my youth I may not see again
Though good memories of them with me does remain
And in fancy I chase the football up and down
With my happy young friends in the Park of the Town.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Peggy O Deere
Sad am I so sad to hear
About the death of Mary O's daughter Peggy O Deere
From her old Hometown many miles away
Her remains in Dublin lay.
I knew her since I was a Primary school going boy
She was five or six years older than I
She was one I used to meet
On the road west of Millstreet.
Cycling to and from the Millstreet convent years ago
She always smiled and said hello,
Always in a happy mood
Never knew her to be sour or rude.
A beautiful teenager with shoulder length dark hair
Always happy and free of care
In my memory she did not age or gray
And I still see her as young today
In Claraghatlea by Clara hill
Memories of her living still
Always smiling and free of care
And people like her far too rare.
Sad am I so sad to hear
Of the death of Peggy O Deere
The lovely girl I used to know
In my school days years ago.
poem by Francis Duggan
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My Friends Back In My Prime Years
My friends back in my prime years I never did disown
It's just that I live far from them and apart we have grown
We drank and played football together but our separate ways we've gone
And we have forged new friendships and life of course goes on.
My friends back in my prime years may now look a bit gray
And they might not know me or I might not know them if by chance we met today
In my memory they have remained young but in reality
The years have left their mark on them as the years have left their mark on me.
Old father time the aloof one to anyone doesn't bow
And some of my friends of my prime years may be grand parents now
Perhaps they now are showing their age and time has left them slow
They could run fast as I recall some twenty years ago.
My friends back in my prime years I may now not recognize
For time leaves it's mark on all of us I've come to realize
I drunk beer with them in the pub and with them played football
And that was many years ago as I can well recall.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Christmas In Lisnaboy
Memories of a childhood Christmas for a lifetime we enjoy
And I often recall Christmas as a child in Lisnaboy
Santa left his bag of presents by the porch door in the moonlight
When the air was damp and frosty on the eve of Christmas Night
In Uncle Dan and Aunty Mary's house of here far north and far away
We enjoyed the ham and turkey and pudding on Christmas Day
But the years went by so quickly and time has left me looking gray
And the biological clock on my life silently ticking away
Weeks before Christmas we wondered what toys Santa to us would bring
The innocence of childhood it is a marvellous thing,
The Seasons go so quickly and the past forever gone
But the happy times from childhood in the memory living on
Uncle Dan and Aunty Mary in eternal rest now lay
But they come into my memory on the eve of Christmas Day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Former Rose Of Casterton
From Casterton in Victoria she lives far away
With hair dyes and hair tints does she hide her gray?
With shoulder length dark hair and lovely eyes of brown
She was a former Rose of Casterton Town.
In her prime she was one lovely to behold
But now in her late fifties she is getting old
Did she marry, mother children or lead a single life
For some lucky fellow she would have been a beautiful wife.
The wanderlust in her and when she was nineteen
She left and in Casterton was never more seen
The Rose of Glenelg and Casterton's Pride
She was missed from the Town in the brown countryside.
With anti ageing creams and hair dyes does she cloak time's decay
For she surely has known a far better day
Good memories of her with those who knew her to this day remain
Though in Casterton she never may be seen again.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Good Memories Of What Was
I was not any use at Gaelic Football or Soccer though I played in Millstreet Townpark in the rain
And I played Soccer in Neily Duggan's Inch Field but these things I will never do again
With my young friends for us it was enjoyment but few things in life stay the same
The fire of youth in us was burning but it now is a flickering flame
We never thought about growing older the gift of youth is a great thing
Though of the past we have our memories and till death to them we will cling
The thought that we age with the Seasons does seldom enter the young mind
But the years leave us frailer and older eternal youth not for air breathing kind
But for as long as we have the gift of memory of our prime years good memories we retain
And often in our flights of fancy the past we do visit again
I still recall the joy and laughter as we chased the football up and down
On Summer evenings often wet and windy in the Townpark of old Millstreet Town
The years leave us all looking older and the clock on our lives ticking on
But the good memories of what was bring us comfort of the past to the forever gone.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Stages Of Life
There’s always a present and always a past.
But when you go to the future, it will seem so fast
That you’ve grown out of preschool and went to Harvard.
But you played on their football team; you can’t be called a nerd.
Once you look through the past, you feel so big
Compared to ten years ago, you can’t just dig
A hole into the ground to bury your memories.
You just waste your time, but burn a few calories.
So you mind as well go pick a rose
But don’t waste your time, here it goes!
At four years old you’re already in preschool
And you’re at the top of your class, that’s pretty cool.
So you feel that anything can be done
Except making Brittney’s hair grow back, that’s just wrong
Once you graduate and now you’re in kindergarten,
You probably won’t dream of becoming a barten-der.
Now it’s first grade, you finally get a test
To see how smart you are, to see if you’re the best
So you get into AP math, you’re really smart
But right now you’re as strong as a SweetTart™
Skip a few years, you’re now in middle
Keep working on those muscles, they’re as thick as a fiddle
Now these are the grades where everyone gets detention
So if you don’t want one of those, pay attention
You need to be respectful, don’t fool around
Or else you’ll be heading town-bound
But you want to graduate to go to high school
So don’t act that way, just keep your cool
Just keep your chill; it’ll help you
Now take a look! You’re in high school, FOO!
Dang! You’re in high school and check out the classes
They’re on your sheet, you don’t need glasses
What do you want to take? Math or band?
When voting for president, will you take a stand?
You get four years in high school before you graduate
But you need to keep the grades up, you need to assiduate.
What group do you want to be in? Nerd or Jock?
Or will you be an artist wearing a frock?
It all depends on your grades, not group
‘Cause if you think, you’re as good as soup.
*sigh* You’re out of school and you’re finally free
You can now do anything but be just like me
What kind of a degree did you get from Harvard?
Was it chemical science, or was it computing, nerd?
It all depends on your area of skill
Your job will rise and fall on a hill
If you get a degree in zoology
Then why would you apply for a job in psychology?
Sometimes life just doesn’t make sense
But everyone in the world can make multiple dents
In this world, no one is forgotten
Then why am I writing this if I should be making cotton?
Life is full of twists and turns
One mistake could get you burns
So be careful now when you go and live
Everyday counts, don’t take. Give
Relish the time you have, it’s very short
So do your thing, if it’s painting or sports.
Life Fades Away
Written by orbison/danzig
My time has come the clouds are calling.
December wind has came my way.
And now I feel the world falling.
All at once, its too late.
Life fades away.
The night is my day.
All thoughts slip away
And even though, I must leave you.
Remember I love you.
Ill always be in your memories.
I will always be with you when Im gone.
Hey, life fades away.
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,yeah.
Life fades away.
Im tired on tomorrow.lost for today.
I long to be at peace forever.
My dull peace
And even though, I will miss you.
I must leave you.
Hey, life fades away.
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah,yeah, yeah.
Life fades away.
So please forgive me.and try not to cry.
I long to be at peace forever more.
Forever more.
Oh yeah, yeah , yeah ,yeah ,yeah.
Oh yeah, yeah ,yeah , yeah, yeah.
Life fades away.
Life fades away.
Life fades away.away.
One last thing to say
Life fades away.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Starting Again
Music: Barry Manilow
Lyrics: Marty Panzer
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And it started again And I meant every word
And I liked what I said
And I liked what I heard
And I started to think
I could think about starting again
We were laughing again
Over memories and wine
And the years in between
Didn't seem a long time
When I smiled she knew why
In a while it was starting again
And I started to think I could feel again
All the bad times seemed unreal
When I looked in her eyes
The cheating, the lies,
The things that were wrong seemed far behind
And I started to think I could care again
And my fears all disappeared
When she called me by name
I knew that she'd changed
The flaws were all gone
The Saint remained
But it started again when I asked her to stay
And she said, "There's this friend who's in town just today"
And she really felt bad, but she had to be leaving again
And she left me again as she'd left me before
Still pretending she cared when we kissed at the door
But I saw in her eyes that the lies were all starting again
Just when I started to feel again
When all the bad times seemed unreal
When it all seemed so right and I thought that tonight
If she said she cared, she really might
Just when my fears disappeared again
And I heard what I wanted to hear
It all started again
And I knew what that meant
It wasn't the start
It was really the end
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old Rhyming Poet
In his early eighties his best days long gone
But the gray haired old poet he keeps penning on
Though many see him as of another time
Sixty years as a poet and still writing in rhyme.
Though not seen as a mentor to the young poets of the town
He once was the Regional Poet Laureate and he knew of renown
When rhyme it was popular a long time ago
And his hair was as dark as the wing of a crow.
Not hard to tell he's known a far better day
The old rhyming poet that the years have left gray
It has been more than five decades since he was in his prime
Eventually we all become victims of time.
In time as in life few things do seem to last
And verses that rhyme are now seen as of the past
But to him to stop writing would be living a lie
And he will be a poet till the day that he die.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Graciousness
I don't intend to dye it at all.
It has been well deserved.
I earned it.
I try to execise,
To keep my body physically fit.
So I don't give the appearance of Godzilla.
I don't have that temperment.
But I do admit to a raised eyebrow...
Especially around those who assume,
My graciousness comes without effort!
The older I get,
The more of it is expected.
And on some days I may disappoint.
Those are the days I'm not hardly trying to show grace.
Those are my rudeness days.
And I do my best to provide balance!
Some folks don't get the message...
Until all sides are allowed a scrutinized view!
It entices gossip.
And I am not beneath delivering to this need!
'I am not talking about your hair.
I thought you thought I was talking about your hair? '
I've learned as I get older...
Say anything!
It doesn't matter.
Few listen.
And those that do...
Have no clue what the conversation is about!
Tie it all in!
Ultimately they will believe it all makes sense.
It doesn't have to!
And that's what I love most about aging!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Return To Youth
Oh to be able to return to my youth
where everything was so new,
never a trouble to think about,
never a trouble to brew.
But youth is gone so quick, so fast.
It cannot last you know.
Only the memory of it can stay.
The memory won't let go.
I remember the tastes, the smells, the sights
as if it were yesterday.
They are most precious and dear to me
as now my hair turns gray.
Please let my brain keep pace with me.
Don't ever let it leave.
For I will lose my youth to the past,
never again to receive
the feeling that comes to only the young.
Oh please let me recall
all of those days that belong to me
from when I was so small.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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He Was A Big Hero
He has just turned fifty his fastest pace slow
He is not the man he was twenty years ago
When they used to toast him at the local pub
And he was the hero of the football club
But time it did not wait for him time it ticked on
And he can only talk now of his better days gone
When he was his football club's number 1 player
And he could run as fast as a wildborn hare
And though he has such good memories of the past
The Seasons came and went and time went so fast
Whilst yet not an old man his hair is quite gray
And clearly he has known a far better day
Two decades ago when his hair was dark brown
He was a big hero the toast of the town.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Better Part Of Life
We're all together once again
For the first time in i don't know when
We were so close once upon a time
There were five of us kids at home
Two girls, three boys and dad and mom
But that was in the better part
Of life we left behind
Remember that old swimming hole
Where we would swim so long ago
And all them possum grapes and muskedines
And do you recall the time
We all got drunk on homemade wine
That was in the better part
Of life we left behind
Life was simple for us then
If only it could be again
How i wish we could go back in time
But time moves on and nothin' lasts
Except the memories from the past
Memories from the better part
Of life we left behind
Remember how we talked as kids
Of what we'd be when we got big
And all the dreams that we held in our minds
I wanted to be a singin' star
And you all said that i'd go far
But that was in the better part
Of life we left behind
Remember all the fun we had
Back when they say times were bad
And life was good to us and things were fine
We had fun and we had love
And a mom and dad to care for us
But that was is the better part
Of life we left behind
Life was simple for us then
If only it could be again
How i wish we could go back in time
But time moves on and nothin' lasts
Except the memories from the past
Memories from the better part
Of life we left behind
Sweet memories from the better part
Of life we left behind
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Past Lives On With Us
We may not be in prison yet we are not truly free
For of our past we are prisoners that's how 'twould seem to me
Bad memories always haunt us they never go away
Until the Reaper claims us they are with us to stay.
For many childhood memories are full of mental pain
Their heavy cross of sorrows through their lives with them remain
Children of war and famines they cannot forget their past
Their living nightmares with them linger though few other things seem to last.
Children of abusive parents bad old memories in them stay young
They live remembering their traumas and die as the unsung
Their innocence stolen from them in their childhood of tears
Bad memories still with them undimmed by the passing years.
We may not be in prison though it would seem to me
That we prisoners of our memories of our past we can't be free
Until the Reaper claims us good and bad memories with us stay
Our past seems to live on with us and it never goes away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Better Part Of Life
Were all together once again
For the first time in I dont know when
We were so close once upon a time
There were five of us kids at home
Two girls, three boys and dad and mom
But that was in the better part
Of life we left behind
Remember that old swimming hole
Where we would swim so long ago
And all them possum grapes and muskedines
And do you recall the time
We all got drunk on homemade wine
That was in the better part
Of life we left behind
Life was simple for us then
If only it could be again
How I wish we could go back in time
But time moves on and nothin lasts
Except the memories from the past
Memories from the better part
Of life we left behind
Remember how we talked as kids
Of what wed be when we got big
And all the dreams that we held in our minds
I wanted to be a singin star
And you all said that Id go far
But that was in the better part
Of life we left behind
Remember all the fun we had
Back when they say times were bad
And life was good to us and things were fine
We had fun and we had love
And a mom and dad to care for us
But that was is the better part
Of life we left behind
Life was simple for us then
If only it could be again
How I wish we could go back in time
But time moves on and nothin lasts
Except the memories from the past
Memories from the better part
Of life we left behind
Sweet memories from the better part
Of life we left behind
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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