Getting Old Poems | Examples
These Getting Old poems are examples of Old poems about Getting. These are the best examples of Old Getting poems written by international poets.
It is much like pulling teeth
Getting a grip on technology
I feel like a wooden relic in time
Learning new ways with old mind
The More Digestible Anything
Becomes, The More That Thing
Resembles What's Been
Already Digested.
-Gray Squirrel
04-21-2026
The glass never belonged
Where it found itself,
Lying in pieces, wronged
A mile below the shelf
Not knowing how it got there
Needing help getting up,
Too far to reach there ...
The handle of another cup
To a corner was cast aside
Among the cobwebs and dust,
It had so swiftly glide ...
The rest of the glass did bust
Shards in the shadows laid
Year after year unrepaired,
If only the glass had stayed
Upon a shelf where someone cared.
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.
(Pema the Pug, 2025)
I’m retired so have the freedom to choose.
So often I choose to sit and read a book
And inevitably at least a few of my five dogs
Choose to lay around with me,
The small pugs beside and on me,
And inevitably something happens to my plans
And I get both distracted and soothed
Into a soporific daze
Or should I say, contact low, from the sleeping dogs.
Nothing like having a small warm living lap blanket
To keep you from getting up
To do something more productive.
Eventually I’ll get around to finishing that novel
After I finish these thoughts.
The dogs after all show me just how easy
And good it feels
To put off doing what can be done
Another day.
But the older I get
I think that other day may just end up being
Another life.
(11/13/25)
Sure, youth can run marathons,
But not of the sort
It takes to get old,
That’s a far different sport.
Getting old takes patience
And you must set a pace
To perform to the end,
For this is far from a race.
But here’s some advice,
To aid in the run:
Make sure to hydrate
With wine and bourbon.
Old Man
(for Pema)
The older I get the more I feel I fade away.
It’s not a bad thing it’s just what is
As old friends die off one by one
While others just drift away
And the passions I once knew
Become nothing more than a lingering scent.
Maybe it takes too much effort
To do or feel anything more,
Maybe it’s simply having done that
And been there so many times before.
Eventually even the joyous play
Of dogs or children
Only remind me how tired I am,
Tired but still happy
With an inward glow
Of appreciation for the Life that flows
Within me and without me.
(9/8/25)
When you can no longer bend down to pick something up
or take your best gal for a stroll in the park
And putting your socks on is a battle royale
ruining your morning and your remaining morale
When two minutes in the sun sets you to sweating
you lament that from life you’re not getting
any roses or tulips, but instead a pair of blue lips
from moaning and groaning at the aches in your two hips
Why not cheer up, my good friend – God must really love you
to pay you such attention, every minute he hugs you…
… Well, pardon me, if you will, but I’d prefer fewer hugs
if God really loved me, He’d just pull the plug
It Never Gets Old
We do;
It doesn't.
The caring that fills the deep dark
The warmth that flows
Self to self
Deep, dear chains of love
Forged from a lifetime's memories;
It never gets old.
The march of our little history
Revolving with the cogs of other histories
Themselves moving other, ever greater histories
Never gets old.
Endings emanate new beginnings
Change is constant,
At the center of all
The pulse of Us remains
It never gets old.
From Forever
To Forever
What we are forms and shifts
Forms and shifts
Yet something still stays true
In the heart of the maelstrom
Never getting old.
The face by which we're seen
Gets old,
This much is true,
Yet the love that blends us
One to One
Never gets old.
Before midnight ticks, I turn to my
interior world ,
One that cradles myrhh
of reminisces and sagas,
Allowing breaths to inhale the agony
and radiance of loved ones' trails
now beyond my physical reach--
Watching the decrepit portraits on
the foyer, July air greets the dew
on blossoms, monarchs flitting in my yard
then fading softly in the shade--
reminding me how age- torn, tattered
past seasons have turned this manor down
I am stilled by the rustle
from maples breathing as if their
whiffs understand my untold ancestry...
Perhaps, I am getting old,
or maybe wise enough
to scrape my pen amid bundled journals,
unearthed by many vintage pages
still to come. And go.
1st place
while getting things done
listening to the old tunes
pleasant afternoon
Heidi Sands
4/19/25
(C)opyright
Have you heard the story,
in all of it's fun and glory.
It is about a young girl named Lori,
she went with a boy named John Dory.
She went running to the lavatory,
was this going to become inflammatory?
Eating blue cheese and old pickles each day,
sitting by the bay.
Her boyfriend John Dory just wanted to play,
she kept saying no way.
Now on her birthday,
she is getting a baby not a blue jay.
When you are getting old with short future,
It seems shocking to admit ruthless truth :
Youth bade bye and life is not running smooth.
Physical limitations you captured.
Each moment will remind ' Your time is up !'
Lots of activities are left undone.
Days are passing dull without any fun.
Next generation not to fill your cup.
Achievements, involvements went obsolete.
Once you showed light on path of your children.
Now lost importance being turned burden.
Are you becoming old fool ? Most unfit !
Starting with the toes,
Leaning from back to front.
Curling muscles across the back.
Never stressed,
Elongated.
Pushing out from nose to tail.
I go from one appendage to the next.
Toes than feet.
Moving knees round and round.
Swaying hips up and down,
In hope the back pain settles down.
The pets have it made.
Each muscle is stretched in one continuous motion.
No rubbing in of lotion.
Cats join in under their shade,
Stretching in from toes up to the back.
As I sit,
Moving each muscle getting ready to stand.
Enviously disrupting my continuous stretch,
As I do my best.
May we all be blessed to have old friends…
who, even after years apart, getting back together is a breeze….
who communicate through friendship
in the language of memories