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Ex Worker Bee

I used to be a worker bee, And as far as I could ever see, Would never have the sunshine time, To sing a song, to pen a rhyme. I longed so for a day I would be free, To paint a picture, to watch TV, That day came with new ways to live, Bones got stiff, mind like a sieve. Adapting to the new me I didn’t expect, My new found freedom was circumspect, But having cyber friends all over the world, Is so encouraging to this aging girl.

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Sand Blown

Date: 7/22/2019 10:57:00 AM

heyyy nice write...when we're young the old look 'handicapped'...when we get oldt the young are the handicapped ...read, write, arithmetic...keep your mind sharp : )

Line Gauthier

Date: 7/14/2019 9:54:00 PM

I hear you, Sunlite. I was a workaholic so this sounds so very familiar... but in a most charming way.

Sand Blown

Date: 7/14/2019 8:25:00 PM

ehhh!...don't buy into the general social view of old people...it's all in the head...my body has slowed but persistence works for me

Robert Lindley

Date: 7/14/2019 4:49:00 PM

Love this representation of life lived and the circumstances that such freedom found oft brings other fruits with it. Adaptation sometimes is very, very hard and the worker bee finds the newfound honey is not sweet.. A fav...