Living the Aging Life

My Princess –

the “Aristocrat” –

would like to be

an Only Cat.

She’d like to look

around and be

the Only Cat

that she can see.

The mind’s a mighty funny thing,

‘cuz whether you are serf or king,

the mind can lift its wings to fly

and scour the reaches of the sky.

I’d like to see some moderation

saturate this entire nation.

I’d like us to be swept away

by waves of “Nice” in all we say.

I’d like attacks of courtesy

to overcome the folks I see.

I’d like that “Me First!” attitude

replaced by Grace.

 Cut out the rude.

I’d like a little passion for

the kinds of acts that I adore:

like listening and honesty

and plain respect for you and me.

What is life, if not for living?

What is love, if not for giving?

One place each can make a start:

share a loving, giving heart.

We used to think it was OK

to own another man.

Our progress can be halting,

still, we do the best we can.

We’ll have three days of summer.

Then, I’m sorry to report,

the weather will be changing and

the days start getting short.

My lilac tree gets weaker,

sicker, frailer year by year.

I’m afraid that one day, I’ll look out –

and she’ll just disappear.

Faith and hope still mean a lot.

In fact, they may be all we’ve got.

My telephone’s not mine alone.

My phone’s self-activated.

It does just what it wants to do.

My input’s not awaited.

It calls at random through the night.

It rings and buzzes left and right.

But when I tell it what to do,

it puckers up and sulks a few.

It burps and stalls and wants a PIN

and then it hunkers down again.

The phone does what it wants to do

which might not match with me and you.

Some toddlers learn the phoning skill…

but my phone does its thing at will.

My garden’s growing in the rain.

Each bloom’s an appetizer

that hints at what I’m soon to see

from all that fertilizer.