Short Seventy Nine Poems
Short Seventy Nine Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Seventy Nine by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Seventy Nine by length and keyword.
There was a man who at seventy-nine
Thought he was only twenty-nine
When asked his age
He'd go into a rage
Earth spins your birthday I think mine
Octogenarian
I would love to be an Octogenarian,
Now that I'm seventy-nine.
What joy to be an Octogenarian,
An Octogenarian will suit me just fine.
Seen many splendid things in my seventy-nine years
But the one thing that stands out is the girlie's cute rear
If I lose my seeing
My touchy and feeling
Then I guess I might as well just call it a career
© Jack Ellison 2015
In the quiet ebon of morning,
Thoughts arrive as droplets from the sky.
I’ve expended too much of my seventy-nine years,
Waiting on a bus called someday;
Now that the bus has arrived I discover,
I don’t have the price of a ticket,
Indian Blankets don’t populate my meadow,
And my time for planting has passed.
Seventy-nine and counting now:
I’ve got a little streak
continuing to close my rings;
obsession’s not yet peaked.
My wife says that I am possessed
by My Precious new watch,
that I’ve surpassed that Smeagol lad,
taken it up a notch.
But it’s no worse than poetry;
in fact, they’re both a win:
the one keeps dementia at bay,
the other keeps me thin.
Seventh-eight water things
On the wall of a small bathroom
Or seventy-nine. Depends on which count I use.
Some people are overwhelmed.
Not me. I put them all on the walls.
If I take them down I will replace them.
With a giant wrap around mural
I have started it in my mind.
It will be just a tiny part of my legacy.
I like uncommon things done in uncommon way.
there used to be a bunch of clover in this meadow
I liked their bulb-like happy leaves
today all I see is scrub grass and giant holes
the holes are courtesy of my puppy
every time he is out here, he tries to dig to the earth’s core
above my head is a large rose-of-sharon-bush
although it will be seventy-nine at four
it is cooler this morning, beginning to feel like autumn
It’s nine forty one a.m. I’m on the computer
The sunlight covers the city this morning
While playing solitaire I paused and looked out the window
And there she was taking her morning walk
She did not see me but I smiled knowing how secure
And tranquil she appeared
It’s already seventy nine degrees here in the valley
So she has a parasol to keep her cool and she’s
Strolling with a slow gate so she’s even cooler
Then she knows
Wrong Expiration Date
Written: by “The Protected One”
7/10/2018
I’ve modified or eliminated habits of late,
Sudden Cardiac Arrest was not endearing.
As I stood at the threshold of Heaven’s gate,
I heard a choir singing and angels cheering.
Then God breathed life into a broken man,
And now I’m surviving on borrowed time.
Seventy nine years has been my life’s span,
At expiration date death’s bell will chime.
Now that I am seventy- eight
Standing long time_ not
In the spring blowing snot a lot
Wonder what seventy-nine holds
Wonder if I will see the calendar turn
Bring eighty to a fulfilled dream
Wonder if I will have enough steam
Just to get out of bed and make it up
I really don't worry about those things
God cared and brought me into the fold
Even though Satan my life tried to control
Open the calendar and see what it brings