Retirement Happiness Poems

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

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Details | Acrostic |
P     aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A     cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N     othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I      nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C     hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |
The Beach of Promises


Fingers entwined, barely touching,
turquoise waters teasing your dancing toes,

strolling along that serene deserted beach,
our promised dreams within aching reach.


Hands clasped, holding on,
sea-breezes tickling the nape of your neck,

walking together, alone, vowing to never breach,
the dreams dreamed on that faraway velvet beach.


Hands in my pockets, alone,
traces of you linger, teasing,

lost in my scribbles, your memory fading out of reach,

my thoughts ablaze, now and then,
catching a whiff of your fragrance,

wafting through alleyways of nostalgia,
your hand in mine on our pristine beach.

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
To live is to Learn. To learn is to grow up. But at our elderly Age that doesn't mean much.... AAAhhh... The choices and freedoms that age does bring... They open the world of childhood again. This childhood is filled with fantasy and such… Including Dragons, and Trolls alive to the touch. I wish, I wish, you could see them with me. We could laugh at their antics, together you see. To live is to Learn. To learn is to grow up. But as my body grows old, my mind’s still young. My husband and I are like the two parts of the moon. He comes from the light side to pull me there, too. His reflections of love keep me there, each day. To live is to Learn. To learn is to grow up. But never stop smiling, along the way. It’s your reflection of love that’s given to the world, each day. It makes everything brighter, and everything OK. To live is to Learn. To learn is to grow up. To learn is to find how to give your own reflections of love.
For contest: Reflections of Love

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
Royal days and knights,
Experiences ever so bright.

A building so divine,
Built to last through time.

The exquisite environment,
Surrounds the palace.

Tall trees and pines,
A walk makes you feel fine.

Performers and actors guest,
Some of the very best.

Bazaars and fairs,
Treasures and tables seen in the fresh air.

Delicious foods and teas,
Good company if you please.

Favorite relatives sending us love and care,
Whenever they visit and are here.

A symphony in the summer,
The sounds of music are heard, without saying a word.

Life is sublime,
What a beautiful rhyme.

God is our Lord and master,
A writer of respect and divinity.

Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz

Copyright © Gwen von Erlach Schutz | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |
By Curtis Johnson

It seemed so clear and plain to me that those urges for repetitive behaviors and tendencies were hard to tame.

It seemed that there simply was no recourse from a life locked in “drive” on a one way street that always ended up the same.

Like a loaded locomotive headed across the plains, providing no great views of mountains or rivers; there too was a longing inside of me to stop and get off  this fast train.

As our lives approach the setting of the sun, and the evening star appears, it seems appropriate to take a little more time to contemplate, meditate, and rearrange.

I thinks perhaps it’s true that there is sometimes less to be gained from vain repetition; and sometimes, I think  that second opinions are required to relieve         more pain.

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
When I retire and start living
I am going to stop writing and just live
Live, live, live like Auntie Mame 
Or, maybe I will write about living:

Drink margaritas – lime only 
Walk on pristine beach – white sand only
Take three shots of espresso - Cuban only
Read love poems only by Neruda – NO WRITING!
Recite Shakespeare - the comedies only
Cook healthy vegan lunch and do cool yoga

Drink cocktails - with Stoli only 
Listen to Andy Bey and Patricia Barber for hours
Have sequestered time - with the LOML 
Eat healthy vegan dinner and train for something called a 5K
Watch sunsets for longer than one minute
Go to indie films, live theater, hip clubs
And dance all night with buff gay men in briefs only!

I wonder if that is what living will be like. 

Copyright © Laura McCadden | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
When I retire: 
I will capture a nice rainy evening, a soft chair, a good fire, an excellent bottle of wine, and one of those "page turner"  books you just can't put down; and I will sit, sip, and read into the night - until the fire, the wine, the book, and I ...
are all done. 

Copyright © BJ BREWER | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |
The air is crisp, and soft the breeze
A perfect day, is sure to please
Put on my fuzzy robe and socks
A perfect look, as cold it blocks.

Through the glass doors, as I look out
The squirrels are hungry there’s no doubt
Must feed them first, my meal can wait
They cutely beg, I take the bait…

Now they are fed, and I am too
I sit and wonder what to do
I’m warm and cozy, I prepare
To spend this time without a care.

And when the moment passes on
Enjoyed, although the moments gone
I think, how will I live this day
Vow not to worry it away…

I’ll do what I love most you see
For time is all that’s given me
To create, gives my soul a lift
To share a thought, to give a gift.

Pick up a pen, write, well maybe
Make a blanket for a baby?
I’m warm and cozy and content
Is this what retirements meant?

To do just what I want, or not
Many options are what I’ve got
Right now, I think a cup of tea
 And after that, well I’ll just see!

Copyright © Betty Janko | Year Posted 2017

Details | Prose |
I learned the art of sulking in my mid-teens,
and told to get off my fat arse by all means,
It was the best time on Earth in my twenties,
parents released strings and no longer sentries.

Maturity started to ease me in the thirties,
someone said that all men were bastards,
traits, imperfections smoothed out in forties,
advised to watch out for incoming penalties.

The involuntary half-way was the fifties,
when you by-passed sex and stupid infidelities,
suddenly you were younger reaching sixties,
and dreamed of twenties, erection, more not less.

Eyebrows raised when a young wife greeted seventies,
but you may take a lifetime to find the right qualities.

Copyright © Terry Reeves | Year Posted 2018