Growing Older Poems - Poems about Growing Older

On Growing Older

On Growing Older

Sometimes my steps are steady,
Sometimes my hands shake.
Sometimes my memory falters,
And I make some sad mistake.

Sometimes I hear you talking 
But I do not understand.
Just remember that I love you 
And I do the best I can.

My skin is sagged and wrinkled.
I look a little like an Elf.
My eyesight's getting hazy,
Sometimes I repeat

Sodium Orange Streetlight Nostalgia Trip

Zaila.
Can’t make a Nickname out of that,
But oh you can,
Super-Z, you ‘member that.
I rather not,
There isn’t much to remember,
I didn’t live much.
Oh, but that coffee table,
Mhm, yeah, I know the one,
The one I’d play dolls under with my cousin,
With Barbies too big to fit in my toy car,
Then you remember how dark It’d get in

GROWING OLDER VS GROWING OLD

There is a way to tell if we are just growing older
or truly growing old…  
or so I have been told….

If we’re still having fun each year we are just growing older
when we stop having fun…that’s when we grow old.

As We Grow Older

Growing older is a carousel  
of highs and lows, each spin a memory, each turn a change.  
It’s the morning ache in places you never thought could hurt,  
the pizza you once devoured now a restless night’s companion.

Your vision softens, sounds blur,  
and the quiet hum of life’s smaller details becomes

Getting Older

There's more rust in my joints than ever.
My bones sound like an old screen door,
and my knees predict the weather
better than any app.
Give me elastic waistbands, soft slippers,
and the creak of a recliner
that groans every time I sit.
Bring on the grandkids with sticky fingers
leaving fingerprints on the walls,
and loud toys that play the same song
again

MIND BODY THEORY

There is this phenomenon we feel growing older
that happens to us old folks a lot:
How some days we feel our age…while others…we do not!

Some days those aches and pains that accompany growing older
seem at best…inopportune…
We moan, we groan, we grouse…we feel older than the moon.

Other days those aches and pains subside…and then
as if by magic

Growing older

Life is passing by 
motivation is fading 
life goals diminish

Growing older

I am so often here these days:
sitting, 
looking, thinking.

I crave stillness,
but things are always on the move,
are never going to stop.

Perhaps it is a condition
of growing older,
to be afraid of change,
to be afraid of what change means.

But I still sit here,
still watch, still ask,
over and over, 
where these waters are going.  

Growing older

Becoming wiser 
looking for the positive 
thankful for each day

Growing Older

Hairline receding slightly
Waistline a little thicker
Gravity winning the battle
A few centimetres conceded
Even when walking proud
Hearing less acute
Necessitating the TV turned up loud
Eyes needing brighter light
Small print now a challenge
A world through four lenses 
No longer two, especially at night
Joints a little rustier
Movement less fluid 
Skin a little saggier
“Less firm” more polite
Settling in grooves and furrows
No

Growing Older

Growing older
I remember the time when teenage knocked my life's door
Just like the wave of emotions reached my still shore
From loving to be with people around
To living in the room with no one's sound
From sharing everything to hiding
I have seen my life sliding
From crying at smallest things to hiding tears
From running away to facing my

Chrono

It's finished, all in heard,
sleepless night, all come around,
headache, also landed,
for the first time, my mind is troubled,
immediately, I started preparing,
drawing the maps and planning,
my heart and mind keeps burning,
so little time to go, I'm still running.

It's finished, all I heard,
all lose end, I try mend,
my health begin to blick red,
for the first time, my

My Muse

I used to be a nocturnal troubadour 
Playing a fair amount of songs that years forgot
With a guitar nestled on my lap
I would whistle while playing until my fingers bled
I laugh at the call for intermission. A pause declared
I walk over to get a bite to eat 
And to talk with some of the other

I Am Not Who I Seem To Be

I know that I’m old and cantankerous, 
and can be kind of loud and quite rancorous. 
But in my heart lives a child 
playing rough, running wild, 
or waltzing in something more glamorous. 

So when I’m crotchety, ornery, or delirious, 
or perhaps being playful or serious, 
please respect and not s; 
I’m worth so much

Of Minds and Growing Older

Of Minds and Growing Older
By: Tom Wright
5/26/99

A fragile thing, our minds.
Where once they flooded with memories of our past.
Our recall, becomes with age,
that mere trickle of things we've deemed important,
not necessarily happening last.

we're unable to unlock
and purge from darkness, one unwanted thought.
So, we often attempt to sort,
those things best left alone
that life has brought.

Then, given

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