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Age Health Poems | Age Poems About Health

These Age Health poems are examples of Age poems about Health. These are the best examples of Age Health poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |


Many years ago, when we were all young,
We really thought life, would be so much fun.
While playing dress-up, trying on mom’s stuff,
Putting on make-up, we found to be tough.

Then came our schooling, and boy things would change,
“Those aren’t our parents”, when they acted strange.
Sometimes they were hip, but old-fashioned too,
That’s something I swore, I would never do.

Wishing you were older, adults had it made,
They would do nothing, yet still would be paid.
That is how little, we all had known,
We surely found out, once we were grown.

Loving the twenties, we’d go out with friends,
When we went shopping, we followed the trends.
Doing what we wanted, and staying out late,
It didn’t matter, what time we all ate.

Then came the thirties, and most of us wed,
Watch what you wish for, my parents had said.
We had to work hard, many bills to pay,
I guess they were right, what more can I say?

Raising your children, was hardest of all,
Needing some advice, your parent’s you’d call.
It seemed so easy, they needed no rest,
So now it’s your turn, you learned from the best.

The forties arrived, that was a shocker,
We’d spend lots of time, just at the doctor.
Back aches and headaches, so tired you’d be,
Trying not to cough, or else you would pee.

The fifties would come, and your grandkids too,
Where were your glasses? You hadn’t a clue.
You searched here and there, and under the bed,
“Hey grandma” they laughed, “They’re right on your head”.

Here come the sixties, now let’s have some fun,
You are retired; your work is all done.
To dinner with friends, you dressed and you wait,
They never show up, you have the wrong date.

Now the seventies, with friends playing games,
If only you could, remember their names.
You try hard to hide, those under-eye bags,
Gravity happens, and everything sags.

Enjoy every day, and have a good laugh,
All the steps you took, led down a new path.
Live life as it comes, each year a new page,
One thing is for sure, everyone will age.

Copyright © Kelly Zakerski

Details | Free verse | |


Pretty princesses
Dancing all around
Frolicking through fields
Very beautiful
Just like you!

Copyright © Smail Poems

Details | Ballade | |


Easy comes beauty in youth’s natural spring,
But with age its mellow dimensions grow.
Like to a bud, a full bloom, age will bring.
With grace its beauty does ebb and glow,
Its liberty allows its new functions to show.
Mature beauty is and will be admired always,
Youth’s beauty and its esteem goes to and fro,
But ageless deeper beauty has endless days.

Mature beauty has a melody to sing,
And this it releases so that you will know,
The elegance and blessing of its echo’s ring.
The evidence of a mind is part of its show,
For it opens tastefully with a view to bestow.
Ageless beauty never lacks for praise.
The beauty of life’s spring may lose its glow,
But ageless deeper beauty has endless days.

In poetry and melody its praises we bring,
For mature beauty’s many dimensions we know.
With fervid dignity I see it take to wing,
Giving the young buds an inspiring show.
May you long guide youth as they grow,
Leading them in elegance the celestial ways.
So youth will  know how easy beauty may go,
But ageless deeper beauty has endless days.

Now young buds aspire to full blooms grow,
And become worthy of nature’s timeless praise.
Allow your charm in majesty and grace to glow,
And may your ageless beauty have endless days.

Copyright © Albert Price

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

Riding Through the Night

Above the clouds, beyond the tree she stays.
Remaining thus, the moon is chaste for now,
Allowing not her well-worn face to show
The many scars belying better days.
I glide along, my wheelchair making way
For no man here, the streets bereft of flow,
Garages closed to keep their cars in stow.
I roam the night, while they may share the day.

Secluded thus I flee from ghosts untold
Who question where my life has gone astray
While broken paths and other wrecks unfold.
I’m lost and cannot seem to find my way
Toward peace of mind, a way out of the cold;
The growing mist thus edging joy away.

Copyright © Ken Crawford

Details | Iambic Pentameter | |


I rise to face yet still more life again
And know my day will be about my age
Through sight that makes all things appear opaque
I hear about each third word spoken clear.

I walk with cane a slow but sure tempo
And get to where I aim without much fuss
Yet still it seems I burden those who care
To take the time to bare my years nonpluss. 

Each time I rise to face my life once more
Trumps thoughts of laying still without regard
For pains one takes to move upon this earth
Or see and hear with clarity implored.

I thank my Lord for each new day He gives
And givers who see beyond one’s struggle
With patience and always kind words spoken
Dignity and respect to me maintained.

Copyright © Michael Wegman

Details | Sonnet | |

The Ulcerated Colon

       U.C. I
I wander through my dark--a mournful soul--
chastised--and to the point of no return,
from feeling I may die--an Earthly goal,,
with ev'ry beat of life--I sting and burn!

An acid feeling, borned from deep in me,
encompassing my ev'ry living cell--
and though I'm with the world--or seem to be--
all I've become--is what no words can tell

and searching for the peace--some where in space,
a tiny speck of hope--to pain no more--
until I'm brought back to the human race
by misery of what life has in store.

   And when I take the pause--I never know
   what ugliness my body's letting go.

        U.C. II
That vilest  of the vile--of all I've known--
lays tainted by the blood I hold so dear,
accompanied by mucous--or alone--
it shakes my heart right to my greatest fear.

Oh! Lord--lay not mine eyes--onto these things--
but what's been normal throughout all my youth,
such beauty's not beheld--until life brings--
the ugly passing on--of my uncouth!

And grant an understanding--of it all--
to those who never know the pain of it.
Yea--never might they have to climb the wall--
nor have to pray life lets them live a bit.

    If guilt be mine--I've paid ten thousand ways--
    enough to compensate--for all my days!
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

Copyright © Vee Bdosa

Details | Ballade | |

The age of anxiety

The age of anxiety

The age of anxiety
It seems that’s where we are
Worry, worry all the time
This does our senses mar
We worry about our money
We worry about our health
We never search for wisdom
With all its wondrous wealth.

Our hearts and brains they can’t restrain
The power of our stress
The cancer cells may start to build
And cause unhappiness
As then we worry about the death
That each of these might bring
And through the might of all this worry
Our hearts, they seldom sing.

We’re running here, we’re running there
All trying to get ahead
Our heart strings numb, and kind of dull
So weary in our tread
We must learn to smell the roses
And let the joy come in
Relaxed in mind, relaxed in body
That’s the only way to win.

7 March 2014 @ 0850hrs

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | List | |

Vaccine Recommendation

The following immunizations
Recommended for kids
10 to 12 years old
Help protect from dangerous diseases

Parents check
Immunization records
If missing 
These important shots

Tdap (tetanus diphtheria, pertussis)
Protects against 3 dangerous diseases
Required before 7th grade
Kids need 1 shot between ages 10-12 years

HPV (Human papilloma virus)
Requires 3 shots for full protection
First shot required between ages 9 or 12
A booster at age 16

Protects against infections
Can cause brain and kidney damage
Preteens need 1 shot at age 11 or 12

Much serious than the common cold
Everyone needs to get the flu vaccine every year
Even young healthy kids

More than just an itchy rash
Can cause Pneumonia or serious infections
Kids needs 2 shots

Talk to your doctor
About getting these vaccines
Be healthy
Protect yourself against these serious diseases


Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Details | Acrostic | |



P atrick is a special kind of man
A lways there to help folk if he can
P erfect is the way his children see him
A nd now they have to watch his lights go dim.

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Ballad | |


Green lush of green 
lush green is green
a leaf of language 
a branch of word 
a flagstone steps 

Heart of the earth is free, 
white flowers
Clean heart, 
fine arts literature
sketching art 
arable land 
planting gratitude

Green is nature 
cool breeze 
citing cloud 
loyal heart 
clarity of thinking 
for the future!

Copyright © Neldy Jolo

Details | Haiku | |

Cold, Flexible Steel

A serial of haikus, all addressing the same topic with 
a hint of humor; but advice that could save your life
or that of a loved one.  New to PoetrySoup, so I hope 
I'm not "out of order" with this submission or topic. 

Cold, flexible steel
Probing my dignity...

This “simple” exam
“…could prevent cancer.” they say.

We all have to die,
But not from colon cancer.

There's a downside tho’.
“Yuk! That, nasty brown liquid.”

“But boy, does it work...
Work and work and work some more. 

Baring your buttocks...
In a fetal position;

“No polyps", they say.
There are no malignancies.

Your colon’s okay.
It’s five years until your next...

Want some peace of mind?
Insurance may pay for it.

One “simple” exam
Can provide that peace of mind.

You might save your life.
Over 45?  Do it!

Cold, flexible steel.
On the other hand, what if…
Something else kills you?

Copyright © Robert Candler

Details | Villanelle | |

The Mirror

			The Mirror

I met myself today, not that many years away.
A most arresting sight; it filled me full of fright:
My mind in disarray, all my senses, gone astray.

Every hour come what may, planning meals for the day.
Checking locks. Are they tight?  Checking clocks. Are they right?
I watched myself today. not so many years away.

Only driving in the day.  After dark I lose my way.
Hardly hearing, blurry sight, nothing seems to taste quite right.
All my senses gone astray, and my mind’s ... in disarray.

Searching for each word to say. Can’t remember yesterday.
Bathroom visits through the night, cursing til I find the light. 
I heard myself today not that many years away.

Talk about childhood days, no matter what you had to say.
Both my knees rusted tight, can’t get up with out a fight.
Bent and frail, drawn and gray, everything’s in disarray.

Do I need this P.O.A.  Deeds and wills seem OK
What about a funeral site?  Who will give my last rite?
I asked myself today: “just how many years away?”
While visiting my Dad this past Father’s Day.

Copyright © Bob Bergman

Details | Free verse | |

Love And Pricks

I Love the elderly so full of history I love my generation who kept me a mystery I love the children who's future, now bright for I have died for them to capture the light for i understand pain more than ever once I released it the anger got better as it went away from the people and into my music without a single reason to prove it without a reason to let Love's light in I didn't, it found me and lesser I sin God and my father both let me know it would all be okay so very long ago even tho the road would be full of pricks even back then I'd tell them you can all suck my dick. -Bj Fard

Copyright © Bj Fard

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Slow Down the Clock

When we get old with arthritis in our bones we make thoughtful decisions about the use of our time. We can amuse our grandchildren while our children inhabit their jobs. We can volunteer to help others like a wolf that knows how to hunt. We can do something creative with our hours and work toward an outcome that warms people’s hearts.

We have options about what to do with our days. We can sit alone in our homes like the last drop of water left on a rock, or we can behave like practiced magicians who can slow down the clock with the snap of two fingers and live like an elder who is not afraid of the dark and be more inclined help our family and friends as they voyage down the highway of time. 

Copyright © Howard Dion

Details | Light Poetry | |



                          The world is full of people trying to stand out.
                             But they don’t realize that they already do.
                          They try so hard to figure what life’s all about.
                      With all their piercings, Crazy hair, and fresh tattoos.
                           They miss out because of the worry they feel.
                         Will they approve of the way I dress, think, or act?
                           In the spotlight a few moments they might steal.
                    But some of the stupid things they do can’t be taken back.
                           I have a secret that only the few wise ones know.
                              Love who you are and forget what they think.
                             And all the good things in life will soon follow.
                              And you shall rise above all as the critics sink.
                                So meet the world with you head held high.
                                  Let them see the beauty that is in you.
                              Let them see your happiness and joy inside.
                   And know that nobody needs to love you more than you do.

Copyright © Carl Rankin

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Up in Smoke it's Reality

Fantasy like Reality can be a disappointment...
Clearing the Air........

He worshipped her from afar...
He had since he was three..
He hid it well , no one knew...
She was his heart’s desire...
With her big bright eyes and her winning smile..
He never thought she would beguile...
Then he turned ten and it was clear..
It had been she who did inspire...
this young man ,with his heart on fire... 
He arrived at seven in the morn...
To help prepare the feast de jour...
He stuffed the bird and chose to make..
Her favourite dessert...fresh Raspberry cake..
He feverishly cut and whipped and stirred..
Grandpa ‘s little helper was becoming quite the gourmet chef...
Then came the time to shower, and get dressed...
He chose his wardrobe carefully...
Making sure that he looked and smelled hmmm good....
She arrived and you could see him beaming proudly...
Everyone feasted on the bird and ate their fill...
He waited on her as I watched..
No one even blinked an eye..
They spoke for what seemed an eternity..
His face could be read for all to see...
Then out of the blue, she excused herself..
And went out on the patio to puff some stuff...
His face went white, I could see his plight..
She chose to be with others you see..
Who foolishly did an atrocity...
The one he worshiped from afar..
Went up in she smoked her cigar...


Copyright © kj force

Details | Personification | |


If you live very long
in this crazy old world
you are bound to do
several things you wish
you hadn't done or
didn't do and a few things
that was totally wrong

Copyright © william fox

Details | Light Poetry | |

Old Age Pills

Pills, Pills, Pills
For all my aches and all my ills.
Many shapes, and lots of sizes
Can fight any sickness that arises.

Some are big, and some are small.
It does not matter I take them all.
Colours also help me know
Which one makes my illness go.

The one that’s large and coloured green
Thins my blood and cleans my spleen.
Without the one that’s coloured red
My heart would stop and I’d be dead.

I know the one that is light brown
Perks me up when I feel down.
And if I’d had too much to drink
I take the one that’s coloured pink.

When I get up, I take a few
And after breakfast, some more too.
More at tea, and more at lunch
All day I must these darn pills munch

Some days however I get confused
I can’t remember which I’ve used.
My health would fail if I forgot
So to be sure, I take the lot.

And so it is we all get old
Though we thought it would never be.
And if today you are young and bold
Tomorrow you’ll be ill and take pills like me

Copyright © Patrick Maitland

Details | Prose | |


She has become
Like a thin Chinese tea cup
Placed upon a large rock
She has become… fragile
Afraid to go anywhere
Least she break

She sits outside
When the weather is clear
Reading the same book
She has read for many years
Painfully turning the pages
With crooked fingers

I see her smile
As the lines on her face
Seem to multiply ten fold
While she tries to remember
Why she is smiling

When the cooler weather
Dances around her
She wears a long soft scarf
Wrapped many times
Around her neck
To keep the cold away

She will ask me
"When will my friends
Be coming by?"
And I sit next to her
Hold her hand
And say to her
Soon Grandma… soon

Copyright © CJ Krieger

Details | Sonnet | |

Tears at My Age

For all the tears we’ve wept, for all of those we’ve lost.
We’ll weep again some more, as we’re told we matter not.
You know they will not say it, but it’s there within their eyes.
The old and frail aren’t welcome, as they’re steadily pushed aside.

If you don’t believe me, then at a party get up as if to dance.
Mouths will gawk and eyes will roll as they come to set us back.
They’ll act like we’re so shameful, as we laugh, and have some fun.
Then they’ll come to guide us to a chair somewhere in the background.

Our wisdom isn’t needed; they’re far too superior for that.
They can’t respect the old ones' thoughts, who're out of date, in fact.
Of course they want our money, and will gladly scope out our homes.
And they want us to beleaguer ourselves so they can go happily on.

But where is the regard that they say our age is due…
Too often it’s in a distant Nursing home no one will ever drive to.

This is dedicated to all those lost souls left in Nursing Homes whom no one
ever visits.

Copyright © Carol Eastman

Details | Rhyme | |

Getting Old

Have you had your colonoscopy?
Your mammogram? Or hey – 
Your stress test? Blood work? Body scan?
Get on it right away!

If you cannot relate to this,
Just wait a few quick years
For as you age, that youthful health
Dries up and disappears.

And then the testing days begin
So when you’re with your friends,
You’ll find your conversations
Follow healthcare’s latest trends.

When you are young, you think your youth
Will always be on hold.
It’s really quite surprising
How things change as you grow old.

Copyright © ilene bauer

Details | Narrative | |

Golden Age

Golden days of youthful frolicking remembrance
As I lie upon my bed and wonder the time
Watching as my LOVE of life deteriorates into a villianous pain
Alzheimers destroys her mind; abuse and lethargy curse her actions
Hate and destruction spew from a dry well of memories
Time stands still in this room three sixteen until the end of days
Family doesn't want to see her emotional outburst
Visitations become less frequent, nurses are jaded to offer hope
Talks of transfering the "patient" into a special facility
Remove the problem from our mist....we can't be bothered with her outburst
In this room is the shell of a life...once lived according to her plans
Memories live on in the descendants when time can find peace again....

Copyright © Doris Culverhouse

Details | Quatrain | |

What Kind Of Flowers

Getting close to eighty, not a great idea To shovel snow anymore The danger of a heart attack is ever present Certainly not something to ignore Up in our brains we're still young as ever But the body's fallen way behind So don't you go thinking, that's not me I'm still young and able of mind What kind of flowers d'ya want on your coffin That's if you don't heed my warning It's not really a subject to make jokes about But it may help you see next morning When we're up in years, it's more on our mind It used to be way off in the future Then all of a sudden it starts getting closer Thinking about age, ain't so super So to hurry it along, keep shovelling snow You ain't a young pup anymore It's up to you if you wanna be a smart ass Maybe make out your will before © Jack Ellison 2014

Copyright © Jack Ellison

Details | I do not know? | |

teens life in Oakland

*A assignment was due in class. *

Every time a gun shoots
A tree looses its roots
Every time there is bloodshed
Along with it millions of tears are shed
Every time a heart is stabbed
Someone else’s life gets barren
As violence grows
Many more mothers moan
The sounds of destruction
Overpowers the voice of those
Who are innocent
Who suffer with no reason
Who beg for life
Who have heart full of innocence

Why do so much violence?
That the child’s cry cannot be heard
When his father is killed
Why do so much violence?
That a mother moans
Over her child’s dead remains
Why do so much violence
For winning any stupid battle
Which is taking lives
Of people who have wives
And mothers and children

When you can keep calm
Talk things out
Do whatever you can
To keep violence out
Because there is no sin as big as

Copyright © donna lu

Details | ABC | |

Treasures of your soul

Life is Harsh, Life is good
Only the few of the proud 
Those men that stand for a great nation
Their life at the stake
So rough and sharp
Every day is another challenge 
For them and for all
Freedom we all hope
But sometimes feel lost
Never give up that spark 
Hope don’t give it up for a price 
And when I see these great men and woman
Risk their life for a single child lost
With guns all around and wars of hate
I feel blessed as my country truly stands brave
A child is a gift of new life and hope
As I see the children in their arms saved at last
Only then will I ever know true courage
This is a path we should always cherish and follow
When the flame burns out nothing is left but stay strong
So please don’t shed a tear I am right here
By your side always and forever  
Our country stands not alone, but as one
Heart filled with love


Poem for Treasures of Your soul contest
for Gail 

Copyright © Brian Otoole

Details | Free verse | |


What is it?
Must we mark a calender,
and tell ourselves,
Okay, this is the midway point,
we’ve reached the summit.

From this point forward, 
we’re on a downhill slide, 
where the river’s bend
is transparent, purple turns
to gray, and summers char
your insides to ashes?

Do winters now
begin to freeze bones, 
crack them like icicles
falling on concrete?

I have passed
the midway point,
so where does this leave me?
Do I vegetate, or
keep sliding into zero?

Well, listen up, mark it down.
I refuse to accept defeat,
I will beat the odds.
I am my mother’s daughter.
Her indomitable spirit
permeates my genes. 


Copyright © Cona Adams

Details | Haiku | |

Old Age

memories do fade
park bench, sitting in the shade
with a hearing aid

Copyright © Joshua Adam

Details | Epic | |

Customs To Getting Old

abuse, age, discrimination, health, introspection, lonely, old,

Customs To Getting Old  ©

There are very ingrained customs noted when getting old
Getting accustomed to old age is not one of them
One has to be blessed with 65 years of life to be noted
As Senior Citizen you are given rank status from the start
Living and ‘recently’ dead is one as it comes to my mind
I am still with a doable durable mind and very much alive!

Grandchildren love us for hugs, kisses and granting treats
We get to be called anything along the realm of 'Grandparenthood'
There is ‘Ganny/ Gampy, Granny/Poppers, Nanny/Papa, Grandma, Grandpa’--- etc.
This lists goes on and all for a ‘love made’ successful act for begetting offspring at the  start
Aging parents we might be, but really now, we are becoming 'ageless' old lonely souls 
But it does seem a great era to live-up to and be remembered for a time
We all have legacies, monumental or financial rewards that will be passed on
But most accounts to moneyed estates are something being chewed up and spat out
Cost of living is too high today and pensions but a trivial godsend gifted for accumulative worked years
Due to endless insurances ‘rendered’ and especially now ‘senioratised’ we are made to claim prematurely 
We are gifted and very lucky with monthly- income Government (payouts) from dues paid for service rendered, thank you citizen
Old Age Pension and Government Pension checks do arrive ‘all’ on time each month
Helps our old-timers out somewhat because security in senior living is out dated
These splendid silver/golden years under the roofs of children who nurture us aid
Is something of the past too, gone out of style with the coming in of the new age

Great medical care for the elderly is a given to the times and rightly so
But so many cut-backs are manifesting because as baby-boomers our numbers are high
So costly a ‘society’ entanglement we seem to have become and too greedy in want
That to assist us in our living accommodations and day to day care seems over the top
And it is all  for breathe and feed when all is done and said so we can be able to enjoy our retirement years

We are in this great era of computer/phone hacking ‘whiz-ding-dongs’ and are their hopeless prey
So susceptible to these scams that trick and bleed us dry and take us to the cleaners is the catch of the day
“And I wasn’t born yesterday” refrain is outdated and holds no truths as “can’t teach an old dog new tricks” ever did 
Our instinctive ‘sound alarms’ over time wisdom gatherings have been faulty battery sensed
We are used, abused unfairly ‘counted’ to self-care restrictions to gain our rightful place
It is no wonder natures culling is backlogged as we short-change her call with ‘longevity’
Losing one’s mind/memory faculties seems on an up-rise and could be a curse or the cure to what ails us
I think I would like to play that mind-game ‘Alzheimer’s and be taken out 
All the mind-set games accustomed for us is indeed overplayed this day
I think I would like to be ‘red’ game piece and just throw the dice out to the floor  It is my favourite colour and stands for ‘stop, don’t go and caution for evermore.  

Copyright © Diane M Quinlan

Details | Quatrain | |

Never Fallen On My Duff

Up and at 'em, the old saying goes But today's not one of those days Still got sleepy in my tired old eyes Everything is just a big haze It's harder and harder to jump outta bed Welcoming each brand new morning Lotsa things change as we start to age They happen without any warning Once was able to walk for a mile Without having to sit by a tree Now just making it across the street Without stopping is a challenge for me My life has proven damn good so far No serious health issues or stuff Been a lucky individual all my long life Never once have I fallen on my duff © Jack Ellison 2015

Copyright © Jack Ellison

Details | Free verse | |

Challenges of Parenting

I was barelegged with you in a field this morning.
You couldn't have been a day past five. 
It was I who helped you navigate the long grass,
the dips in the soft, unseen turf,
you who found the ripe blackberries,
spread across your face like war paint.

Or was it your high school?
You walked off the grounds for the last time,
a sheet of paper pressed between leather 
under your arm as your  books always were,
I wore a simple floral top and black slacks,
a proud smile that just wouldn't come off.

I can’t recall. But no matter.

It's 4 o'clock , another sunny Monday, 
that day after Thursday,
when that kind young man
who looks so much like you
always brings warm apple pie
just the way I like it. 

He should smile more often.

Copyright © Darryl Davis