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"This
was written for an old 80 year old man I worked with.
Chewed on an old cigar butt all day and claimed his longevity by his
drinking a glass of prune juice/whiskey every morning.
He and his mom had actually traveled across to Oklahoma in a covered
wagon. Quite
a fella and will always be one of my true loves."
The Old Ones
We've all known one whose age,
Is beyond our imagination;
Too old to enjoy life
In our estimation.
We tire of the stories
Of the "good old days"
When things were done
In different ways.
Tempers too often flare
And patience wear thin;
Sometimes so hard to bear-
Our dear old friend.
Why can't we see?
The world of wisdom
He'll gladly give free
To those who'll listen.
He's seen and done things
We'll never know
And just by asking
We can learn and grow.
God love and protect
Our dear old friend,
For soon he'll be gone
And our time with him end.
Connie O
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