The Adventure

When the sun begins to rise and I open my eyes, I see only the path to my adventure. I am taken with delight as I prepare to ride in flight, If only I could find my upper denture. I touch the floor with feet and slippers hope to meet, But instead I find the floor so cold. I am reaching for my glasses as my spouse so often sasses, On my head she says; I must be getting old. Out of bed I wander to the closet of the water, Hoping to awaken to a younger man. My grandpa so I see I'm so sure that it's not me, That I say to him in mirror gramps the man. Though the wrinkles on my hands look like twisted rubber bands, I know that I am stronger than I seem. My hair, though not it's tint is all there leaves me a gent' And with in my eyes you even see a gleam. I'm walking rather slow, these days and don't you know, I see so many things I'd long forgotten. How a bug crawls upon the ground intent And how a twig so twisted like me is bent. Oh the pains that life does dish. Each night as I retire my spouse say's how's the fire, And I answer not as hot as I may wish. So does end my daily adventure another one to come, The end of this dear poem, my life's days a brand new sum...