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Quatrain Retirement Poems | Quatrain Poems About Retirement

These Quatrain Retirement poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Retirement. These are the best examples of Quatrain Retirement poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Quatrain | |

So Words Become

So words become; the order of the day
and order of the day becomes
the soldiered meaning of all work and play,
the ever present, beating drums.

Then words become; the lure of the lie
and liars lure every son
with shadows of gold 'til they all but die,
to retire, to be, to be done.

And then, once again; the words become
the order of every day
to sleep, to awake, to be dead and done,
'til all words fly, ever away.
  ~TH~

Copyright © Tom Hitt | Year Posted 2015

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Ain't Retirement Grand

I wake up at 5:30 most mornings Before the sun has a chance to rise Head for the bathroom as fast as I can To get rid of yesterday's Mai Tai I let out a great big sigh of relief As I wipe the gunk from my peepers Stand in front of a full length mirror Like Tarzan, in my trap door sleepers I sure am ruggedly handsome, methinks Could even grace the cover of GQ That's if they publish a special edition For overweight, balding yahoos Maybe I'm being too hard on myself I've still got a surprise up my sleeve Like running a mile in two hours flat Great feat for old guys to achieve Here's the crux of the matter my friends It's something I sadly must share Try all your life to take care of yourself You'll still wind up old with no hair © Jack Ellison 2012

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2012

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Young Whipper Snappers



Was self-employed for thirty-five years So when I finally called it quits No big party, no expensive gold watch No well wishers, no funny quips As I quietly sailed off into the sunset I heard this young fellow say “Another piece of deadwood we're rid of! Let's go, it's a brand new day” That's funny, I said the very same thing He's right, it's a brand new day No more stress no ridiculous deadlines Finally time for making hay Young whipper snappers have no idea Their time will come sure as rain “Another piece of deadwood we're rid of!” It'll be they who'll hear that refrain! © Jack Ellison 2013

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2013

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Ain't Retirement Grand

I wake up at 5:30 most mornings
Before the sun has a chance to rise
Head for the bathroom as fast as I can
To get rid of yesterday's Mai Tai

I let out a great big sigh of relief
As I wipe the gunk from my peepers
Stand in front of a full length mirror
Like Tarzan, in my trap door sleepers 

I sure am ruggedly handsome, methinks
Could even grace the cover of GQ
That's if they publish a special edition
For overweight, balding yahoos

Maybe I'm being too hard on myself
I've still got a surprise up my sleeve
Like running a mile in two hours flat
Quite a feat for old guys to achieve

Now here's a lesson, so listen up good
To this fatherly advice that I share
Take care of yourself or you'll wind up
As a old guy without any hair

©Jack Ellison 2012

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain | |

My Energy Has Flown



Much as I'd like to do what I used to At 78, my energy has flown It's really not matter of choice at all The body decides on it's own Oh how I wish I still had the energy As I did just ten years ago Age has a way of deciding for us How far our body can go Must always try to really stay active Retirement years can be long Mental abilities stay almost the same Physically it's a different song Physical exercise is very important To maintain our youthful zest Otherwise the body starts to shut down And memories are all we have left © Jack Ellison 2013

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2013

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A Once Active Soul



Been retired for over three years now I've finally accepted this role As a senior citizen sent out to pasture Not good for this once active soul Poetry has sure helped fill in the gap But looking for something else Maybe creating a children's picture book Got a mind for it I've always felt Not saying my mind is childlike or such But it's probably close to the truth Always was able to get down to their level Even though I'm long in the tooth So wish me well in whatever endeavour Don't need to make one red cent You can wager I'm gonna eventually find it The activity for which I'm now meant © Jack Ellison 2013

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2013

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Happy Husband Hears No Alarm

Waking with a smile, eyes bouncing green, dear husband
makes me hold back my scream, desire to pull over sheets.
Later, I find you sitting like Buddha, gazing at the land,
shifting as each birds lifts and soars and tweet tweets.

I watch you in silence, pick up slippers, my piles of papers
find my own breakfast to leave you undisturbed in dream,
you thank me so many ways, your face relaxed, finger tapers
held on belly, sometimes I wonder if you see past the gleam

Of heavenly contentment, lap of pool, sun blazing warm
the face so bruised by clenched jaw now so smooth
I never dare to battle you, drive you against walls or alarm.
Retirement is a silence of weighty falling before well oiled groove.

Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2014

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Too Much Sun



Some guys are cut out for retirement That certainly doesn't apply to me If I had my druthers, I'd still be working This is surely not my cup of tea Used to be such an active fellow Was hard at work twenty-four seven Up until virtually all hours of the night Now I'm lucky if I make it past eleven This poetry site is my saving grace Without it I'd surely go berserk Well maybe that's overstating my case But you get it, I thrive on work Perhaps there's a big surprise in store I'll inherit a million big ones From a distant long lost cousin of mine Might be getting too much sun! © Jack Ellison 2013

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2013

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The Ballet

old post from last year.....

"Music Maestro," the conductor turns-
As the curtain rises and the ballet begins,
People sit on the edge of their seats-
Tasting the sweetness of the violins-


Dancers make not a single sound,
As their slippers touch the stage,
The audience, still, gazing forward,
Quite intimately engaged-

The music pitches soft, then loud,
Creating a somber mood,
With cabrioles, jetes, arabesques, plies,
An ambiance of mystery, the dancers all exude.

Painting a captivating canvas,
Gracefully moving, white sylph-like silhouettes,
The "Prima Ballerina Assoluta" twirls,
Executing perfect en-point pirouettes-

This ballet tells the story,
Of how a peasant girl, from a broken heart, dies,
Her last dance - a spectacular performance,
Brings tears to the audience's eyes.

Nearing its dramatic ending,
Dancers complete their last entrechats,
Spellbinding, flawlessly done,
A standing ovation for them all-

Music stops as the Maestro takes a bow,
The curtain lifts, then falls,
Applause of the audience demands,
A number of curtain calls-

Ballerinas retreat backstage to celebrate,
Their "Prima's" last dance was today,
Inside, the dancers weep softly,
Outside, people praise the ballet-

Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2015

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Oh, What Am I Going To Do , Today

Oh, what am I going to do, today?
I've got so much time on my hands that I
Will simply go mad if I don't find a way
To fill it all up with some stuff to get by.

I try to stay busy with this and with that
And sometimes it works but at others falls flat
I think at such length that my head starts to hurt
And then I relax with a cup of yogurt.

I once had a job where they worked me to death
I grunted and groaned 'til I gave my last breath
The medics restarted my heart with a jolt
I thanked them, then, wisely, decided to bolt.

I could someday make a good living at rhymes
But all I might do is to fall on hard times
I'm cracking my skull like a ripe coconut
To pull myself up and well out of this rut.

A jack of all trades but sad master of none
Among all that's not new now under the sun
I can't just go out there and find a nice niche
It makes me so crazy I want to yell, "SHEESH!"

Copyright © Roderick Molasar | Year Posted 2015

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Three Keys


		
		I used to think, when I was very young
		and immature, how splendid it would be
		to know my entire future in detail.
		Then one night, in a dream, I held a key.

		I rushed and found the door that bore my name.
		Then just as I was poised  to bring to light
		what was to be, God's hand reached down and claimed
		both key and door. They vanished from my sight.

			************************

		I longed to pen poetic gems and sought
		the key to waken genius in my mind.
		One day a  golden box and key appeared.
		A voice said, "What you need, in here you'll find."

		The missive meant for me was quite concise:
		"You dolt, true genius doesn't  wait to be
		released from golden boxes by charmed hands.
		And, rest assured, there is no magic key.

			************************ 

		When I retired from teaching, I acquired
		a special key that lets me frequently
		into a lively world that needs me and
		expels my crisis of identity.

		Behind this plain white door the key unlocks,
		I take my place as counselor and friend,
		playmate and driver, referee and cook		
		for two grandkids it is my joy to tend.

July 31, 2016

In each stanza, second and fourth lines have end rhyme.

I retired early--at age 51.
		
		

Copyright © Janice Canerdy | Year Posted 2016