Middle Age Poems | Examples
These Middle Age poems are examples of Age poems about Middle. These are the best examples of Age Middle poems written by international poets.
I am now in my.middle age,and some will say,
' You are getting old.'
But as of yet, I have not looked into a mirror
That has cast its cold eye on me and declared,
' You are beginning to look old'.
Nor have I encountered a bicycle,that prior to boarding, has warned,
' Ride at your own risk,you are too old'.
Nor has a muffled voice whispered in my brain,
,'Act your age,accept.you are old'.
And as my.whole story is not yet told,
I,as of yet,cannot grow old.
In youth, loves kindles, ignites flames bold
While two hearts dance beneath a cloudless sky
With soft gentle hands, in a "whimsy" he did mold
Two young bodies close in his last good-bye
In my "imagination, I can feel
And "dream" in "reverie" of our lost youth
Now at times, I cry about the raw deal
The fervent winds of passion gone, in truth
In aged eyes though not in "hallucination"
A steady warmth still flows from each sweet soul
Not from youth's passion nor middle-age station
Lows have made our life's love completely whole
At times "visualization" brings back youth
When fantasy and "dream" sometimes hid truth
It is five o'clock somewhere
And the porch is still there
There are cocktails, and the a swing that still sways
With the wind and the whispers
We will all meet here
With our memories of those yesterdays
At the end of West Road
We watch fireworks explode
From the porch on the Fourth of July
Now our children are grown
We thank God for His gift of new life
We share pictures and days tell
Of memories we won't sell
On the porch until the middle of night
From two months to ninety
The stories get mighty
On the porch that assembles the time
Through our lives and our eyes
We had a guide in the porch light
That shines on and through each passing year
On Sunny Hillside Farm this day
Family takes their place
For another photo on the porch wresting time
Her children thought something about their father was off
They did not know what it was
Having never thought of dementia or Alzheimer’s before
They attempted to tell Mom their concerns
She refused to see anything weird in her husband
He’s a bit slower, that is all.
She had jammed herself in the middle of a bread pan of denial
Finally, she had to admit there might be something.
After he sat on a riding lawn mower for three hours
But did not start it
Because he had forgotten how
PS The key was in the lawnmower
Life is about fighting for the love of yourself.
Remember what you learned as a teenager
Take aim at your body and mind to fight
Follow the lessons from parents and teachers
When you have a career, be prepared to fight
Even day and night without becoming weary
Whether they are hard or huge, tedious or tough
Finish a great job to bestow upon your country
In middle age, you carry the burden of struggle
Eliminate evil thoughts and self-centeredness
Dispel delusions, ignorance, iniquity and anger
Surely break down while fortifying goodness
Even though, as you enter your golden years,
Keep your body and mind strong and smooth
Fight down against any weakness and laziness
Fight! Fight for morality by speaking the truth
Super woman is middle aged now
Her headlights hang low; her back aches.
Her feet are as tired as the day is long.
Why do you still do it? Her friends ask.
Yes, she still leaps off of high buildings.
But it takes more than a single bound.
And she tries her best to save people
But the bad guys are faster now
Or she is slower.
She is not sure which.
It’s just not the same, she thinks
As she takes her soaking feet and teeth out of the water.
‘Blessed I was to be young in an age of charmed dreamers.’
Childhood in suburbia wanting for nothing;
Kickball and flashlight tag ‘til dinner was set;
Be home by the time the neighborhood’s lit.
Painting the sky with the glow in our eyes no
worries we were just free to be kids;
Talking we always wished that we were older;
What would be able to do? Whatever we imagined
we could do. Rock, paper, scissors all ended
with a killer idea; Started from different sides
but always met in the middle;
No one’s tools or process was better than another,
that was the magic of such innocent times.
Staying gold until the sun set.
Creating with fire;
Streetlight imaginations
burn just like the stars.
In youth, vacations lent my Summers wings
and Christmas gilded wintertime in gold.
I've aged (a bit) and love my Falls and Springs
for landing in between too hot or cold.
In time, I've learned it doesn't pay to be
too up or down, too rich or poor, too round
or thin. Avoiding each extremity,
I balance life by seeking middle ground.
I used to have my weight control down pat,
then physical exertion simply froze.
I'm somewhere south of fit and north of fat;
my muscles shrink yet still my middle grows.
As seasons come and go, I grow more sage;
I know the meaning now of "middle" age.
In youth we can do all things. In middle age we can still dream. Seniors can only reminisce.
Date Written: 1/11/2023
8 Place
(CHILDHOOD)
Start with no feathers,
warmth is around, we are fed.
We grow, we will fly.
(YOUTH)
As eagles, we fly high,
above everything, free, no fears,
all the sky for us.
(MIDDLE AGE)
Not far from rooftops,
doves flying together are,
they follow the rhythm.
(OLD AGE)
Not many high flights
concerned under the branches
digging into our soul.
Ah! The smell of eggs
and pancakes on the griddle
Olfactory nerve distributes
five pounds to my middle
Borders middle age,
Stood in middle of the room,
Woke up way too soon.
Don’t do the math/s
Don’t look at the ratios
Don’t do the sums
Don’t consider the odds
Don’t do the math/s
Don’t let the algorithm conclude!
Don’t let the median compute!
You’re no average, you’re no middle of the road.
You’re not a number and no number is you.
Four young men and quite large
Are cruising the mall like a barge.
But I, diddle, diddle,
Fit as a fiddle,
Aim my cane at the middle and charge!
I try to stay alert, but my body is saying “no!”
Because I did not have a good night’s sleep.
It is irritating but I have to let you know.
There is a giant dog here with a super leap.
He likes me to be awake in the middle of the night.
After he gets me up, I head toward the loo.
He licks my face and gives me an instant fright.
Another dog benefits by eating a snack too.
Yes, I hate to admit this, but they get a treat.
In the middle of the night, when they wake me up.
It’s usually baloney or some other kind of meat.
Because I simply cannot say no to either pup.