Being a Grown-up is No Fun at All

Hi. My name is Emmy Lou.

I celebrated birthday number ninety-two.

Does that make me a grown-up,

Can I still play too?

I forgot how to giggle,

How to laugh ‘til I cry,

How to tell a silly story,

See pictures in the sky.

Would you, could you, help me

Remember what it’s like

To wiggle or to giggle

To ride my old red bike?

Feel the wind, touch the sun,

Eat an ice cream cone

Walk in the rain with no umbrella

Laughing all the way home.

Just one thing I’d like to say

I’ll ask the Lord on bended knee

To let me love and laugh and pray

And live ‘til birthday ninety-three.

I refuse to quit.

I’ll never give in.

I’ll go out swinging.

Father Time will win.

Inspired by the ‘Birthday Lady’ – June 2015

Tick Tock

The clock ticks on

And there I’ll be,

On my way to eternity.

Time

Time and time alone aborts my life’s ambition.

Frenzied fervor quenched by circling hands.

Relinquish yesterminutes dream

And on to tomorrow.

Who will miss this unspoken philosopher?