For The Young At Heart



How do I know my youth has been spent:
Because my get-up-and-go, got up and went.
But in spite of all that, I'm able to grin
when I think where my get-up-and-go has been.

Old age is golden, I've heard it said,
but sometimes I wonder as I go to bed.
My ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,
my eyes on a table until I wake up.

When I was young my slippers were red,
I could kick my heels right over my head:
When I grew older my slippers were blue,
but I could still dance the whole night thru.

Now I am old my slippers are black,
I walk to the corner and puff my way back.
The reason I know my youth is spent
my get-up-and-go got up and went.

I get up each morning dust off my wits,
pick up the paper and read the "orbits."
If my name is missing, I know I'm not dead
so I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed.
author Unknown







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