I had to wait ‘til I grew old
and listened to my peers,
to figure out why they call
old age the “Golden Years”.
Gold, we know, is metal
and metals describe well
what “Tin” happen to the body
when we grow old and frail.
As we reach the “Golden Years”
there is “Silver” in our hair…
We have “Lead” in our fannies
and a “Nickel” we can spare.
There is “Iron”y in “Zink”ing
that it would be quite grand
F”Ore” us to “Steel” away
and join a heavy “Metal” band.
Love this, Mr. Tranmer! My husband and I are having our 54th Anniversary in April. I always make him a special card, and I was hoping you don’t mind me including this in the card this year. I have found that he, like most men, doesn’t melt over mushy, lovey-dove cards. I like it better when he smiles about one I have made him.
Thanks!
Debbie
Hi Debbie,
I write so many serious poems, I have to get silly once in a while.
ron