My coffee grows cold,
And I old.
And here I sit
Playing the wit,
Until death calls time
On wit
And rhyme.
My Coffee Grows Cold
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Tag Archives: growing older
Old Time
On hearing my clock chime
I think on Father Time.
I touch my grey hair
And wish for a woman ere
My ageing clock does finally stop
Ending time and my passing rhyme
My Hair is Thinning
My hair is thinning.
I drink and think
On sinning with women.
And, as I drink
I ponder on
Where my hair
Has upped and gone!
In Early December
In early December
I heard
The dawn bird
And did remember
Another year
Will soon end.
My friends
Are growing older.
I hear
Pretty young women
Ask me
About family matters.
There will be
No more sinning.
Merely hot tea
And matters
Of domesticity
For me.
It Is My Birthday Tomorrow
It is my birthday tomorrow
But I shall celebrate tonight
When there will be delight
With family and friends. And sorrow
On the morrow
For I shall turn 50 on Sunday
And an unaccountable headache, will with me stay
Throughout my birthday.
Though the hair of the dog will remain
To ease my pain …
The Chasm
As one grows older
There opens
A great chasm
Where enthusiasm
Sighs
And dies.
The chasm deep
Does so easily creep
Upon man,
Who must step back
(If he can)!
K Morris - Poet 