Best Seniors Poems
Got an ice cream cone in one hand
While typing with the other
Why does ice cream make us seniors
Keep on begging for another!
Isn't ice cream only for kiddies?
Wow! That's surely not the case
Seen old folks down a chocolate sundae
Beg for more with a messy face!
Maybe it makes us feel younger
Or it's simply just a treat
As we lick away like a spaniel
A sensation that can't be beat!
Not shy about our craving
We'd fight for another scoop
There's other ways to try it
Imagine ice cream in vegetable soup?
So stay away from old folks
When they're lining up for some
They'll push and shove and step on you
For a scoop of butterscotch rum!
© Jack Ellison 2012
SENIORS OLYMPICS
Images of fearsomely fit youth everywhere,
healthy people, all bronzed, featured
by the second, on screens and public spaces :
fit and flash, but always young, Olympians.
I protest, for we seniors are just as sporty;
we recycle daily, suffer running noses;
fallen archery’s no problem at all - well, it is -
as we routinely wrestle with living.
Best not to even mention water sports.
Weightlifting self out of armchair is hourly,
when diving for the loo, as is rowing back
from much too easily expressed criticism.
We ping pong daily with potions and pills.
Sailing close to the wind, shooting mouth off,
leads to embarrassed synchronized grinning.
Annoy us and you will get a right kayaking.
Much of our lives consists of sundry hurdles;
shops are like a cross-country marathon,
or a steeplechase broken into relays,
bench to leaned-on wall, to bench again.
And, we’ve all done pent- and heptathlon,
with the dec- coming in to (or out of) focus,
we need not discus these ageist Olympics,
I have hammered my point enough ....
Alan McAlpine Douglas
Goodbye is always not easy to say
Especially when someone is going away
Today finally the day arrives
When we split apart
In the directions of our choice
From being together
In every obstacle
To establishing a friendship
Which is loveable
We created a lot of memories
Which will be the remedies
In the life's worst phase
Though miles lie between us now
But we are never far apart
For friendship doesn't count miles
It is always measured by heart
Let hope and wish to meet again
To relive revive and regain
The college ambiance may not be the same
Yet we will sit and find moments to cherish and frame
The hope and struggle that you have done
Will definitely convert into success one day
Just a note to say
As now you move away
May luck and success be with you
And we will surely miss you.
30th april 2018
Friday Night Check-ins
The days have been calm and collected.
The guests have been happy, content.
The weekday staff scurry out from the hotel
To avoid the upcoming event.
Weekend receptionists tremble
As the Friday night check-ins approach,
Fearing the tsunami of wrinklies
On their three-day excursions-by-coach.
The first vehicle’s brakes squeal their warning
As its door opens up with a sigh.
The girl at the desk and her male teammate
Watch the porchway with dread in their eyes.
The first wrinkly disembarks backwards,
Reaching up to be handed her Zimmer.
The scowl on her face giving more than a hint
Of the litany of protests within her.
Slowly the vehicle disgorges
Its fifty malcontent arrivals.
The front desk staff offer a brief heartfelt prayer
For their sanity, composure, survival.
Like an unerring wave of displeasure
The wrinklies shuffle in through the door,
Shoving aside anyone heading out –
They’ve made this manoeuvre before.
The party’s predominantly female,
Determined and far from benign.
Apart from one chap, in windcheater and cap
Looking hen-pecked and toeing the line.
They descend on reception like locusts,
Complaining, demanding and cackling.
The staff at the desk have nowhere to hide
From the surge of objections they’re tackling.
Ground floor room! No steps! Wheelchair access!
Why no lift? Single occupant! Porter!
The tottery old girl with the big Zimmer frame
Demands a young man to escort her.
The onslaught is tough and relentless
As the wrinklies press home their attack.
Then, deftly dealt-with, the tidal wave thins
As they head to their rooms to unpack.
Pleased with the way things were handled,
The reception-staff think they’ve survived.
But outside the lobby, brakes hissing with glee,
Another full coach has arrived…
debt ceiling
raised
seniors,
their children
and grandchildren
joyfully
jumped--
touched ceilings
in homes
*Septolet contest
Golden years in time of summer and autumn;
gilt leaves turn into their color artwork.
The cool ushers the night's drawing in warm fires.
Days smile at withered scarlet blossom wreaths.
Dreary days bring them here both together;
since children, brothers not in blood, but in bond.
They sit warm on a park bench as they indulge
in enjoyable recollection of past events.
As warm at noble heart as leal in bone.
They grace the distant past they have left behind.
With their wilds as children they changed the world as adults.
They leave their memories for another time they meet.
But never mind, you will always find them
sitting on the same park bench with joyful noise.
4/15/2019
Who Cares?
Who cares…
When loved ones with dementia go missing and resources caregivers lack
When the poor are given a handout, not a helping hand to get on track
When lying scammers and telemarketers, seniors cannot hold back
And one bad decision results in suicide or homicide following a hack?
I have another piece that's too long for here - so it's in "Short Storries."
It's called "Seniors" - about a High School graduation party
I know I could take things out - but then it's not what I wanted to say *shrug*
Here's the link
URL: https://www.poetrysoup.com/short_stories/seniors_9476
I hope you like it!
Once I was young,
now I'm an oldie;
Once I was shiny,
now I'm all moldy.
Monsters all around yet it's only Friday.
A ghoul or two were my expectations but to my surprise they had imagination.
A ghoul there were none but Waldo a many.
Halloween isn't for another two days.
I wonder how many I'll see on Sunday.
Tall and scary, short and funny?
There are too many possibilities that I can conjure up.
Speed dating if you're a senior , can be an ordeal.
But it would be so nice to have someone to share a meal.
So we get gussied up and head for the venue
and wait for the first gentleman to come into view.
And the first to sit down has ears like Mr. Spock
and the second one is wearing fuzzy socks and crocs.
Five minutes with each is more than enough
as they try to impress us and strut their stuff.
Of course, we're all older and set in our ways
but all of us know we have limited days.
Still we are picky, holding out for Mr. Right.
It may be called Speed dating but it takes most of the night.
So check marks and smiles and X's for a few ,
but we all tough it out hoping to meet someone who
will be the right fit, a gentleman and a scholar.
Not someone who's deaf so we all need to holler .
Now the guy with those ears might just win " best in show"
and the socks and crocs guy, he'll just have to go .
We say our goodbyes and hope we've impressed
and we didn't waste our time getting so carefully dressed.
So at the end of the evening we hand in our notes
with those crosses and ticks to be tallied by hosts ,
and then we go home and hopefully wait
for some tick marks to match so we'll finally get a date .
seniors
eighteen, eighty
graduate, retiree
pursuing opportunities
seekers
February 10, 2020
Contest: Modern or Traditional Cinquain
Sponsor: William Kekaula
I like senior citizens
They know what I do
We sing words to our songs
And the ‘F’ word is few
When talking about history
Youth think ‘King’ is a rank
Mention Kennedy’s death
Their faces go blank
Teens dance as ‘tho injured
Having spasms suggestive
Missing the closeness
Of waltz - ever festive
Their ears carry piercings
Eyebrow then toe
More hidden in spots
I don’t want to know
Slim hips must have Velcro
To keep pants holding on
The edge of their butts
Causing senior’s alarm
They message with cell phones
Always keeping in touch
Seniors share coffee
But one cup’s enough
They’re raised with our guidance
Where did we go wrong?
I’ll stay with the ‘old’ ones
It’s where I belong
As they say, there goes the neighbourhood
A nefarious group of seniors, up to no good
Swearing and cursing
Belching and coercing
Causing distress for all the young girliehood
TOOTHLESS
long kiss
to miss
NOTE:A footle is a two line ,2 syllable verse with an integral title-Light Poetic verse form,witty,pertinent,topical etc (technically a trochaic monometer and not necessarily in rhyme).A 'hybrid' innovative sequenced variation has
developed over the years (since 2009)alongside the original definition