The Passage Of Time Poem by R W Burke

As children, with birthdays just once a year
It seemed like an age before another was near
There were parties and presents, balloons and a cake
Gifts for our siblings at home we would make
Movies at cinemas with plush velvet seats
Day trips, adventures and all kinds of treats
These things provided, our lives, a full cup
But always we’d sooner have been a ‘grown up’.

Then one year, we reach the grand age of a ‘teen’
Tantrums and puberty now can be seen
Taking a risk, we will rarely think twice
We’re sure we know better than adult advice
Jumping right in without thinking it through
We make our mistakes, be they many or few
Things have to be ‘cool’ and ‘unique’, ‘all the rage’
We’ve reached the great bridge where we all ‘come of age’.

Voting and drinking (if we haven’t before)
Pubs, bars and nightclubs taking the floor
Attractions, distractions make themselves known
And suddenly out from the nest we have flown
Working (or shirking) we’ve taken a choice
Making decisions, we’ve found our own voice
Happily basking in the joy of our youth
Ignoring the years as they gather the truth.

Dreaming and scheming, imagination unfurled
Excitement in planning our trips round the world
Then marriage and children (or not) is our plan
Building our future as only we can
Time is on our side and life is a breeze!
Thinking of old age and pensions! Oh please! ! !
We’ll come back to the matter that’s sealing our fate
Safe in the knowledge, that it’s never too late.

But suddenly decades are passing us by
Life starts at forty but doesn’t time fly
Some of our big plans have never been cast
A lifetime’s momentum is cantering past
Advancing on fifty we pull back in shock
And vainly we all try to turn back the clock
Our fledglings are flown so we reach down the line
In the hope of a replay from age thirty-nine

Raiding and purging our spiritual coffer
Making the best of what we’ve left to offer
Courses and hobbies we’ll give it a whack
At sixty, we’ve time now, to get back on track
So, we struggle and kick to maintain middle age
But the years have no mercy. They will turn that page
And, as time rushes on, and our second wind’s spent
Our plans are short lived, as is our intent.

We promise ourselves there’s no need to be sad
We’re grey haired and jaded but don’t look that bad.
At seventy, they’ll say how we’re still very good
(For a pensioner standing where we are then stood)
We find ourselves proudly announcing our feat
“Yes really, I’m that old. Don’t I look great? ”
Once again time has tricked us. We’re wrinkly and old
We can’t stand the heat and we don’t like the cold

Our tattered minds weary. Our spirits have flagged
We’re forgetful and grumpy; and our bodies have sagged
Yet for all that is passed and for all that life’s cost
I think… No I’m certain that all is not lost
There’s one thing we can have (and I hope it’s not rumour)
We can still have within us a good sense of humour

So, I hope you enjoy my essay in rhyme
Reflecting on life and the passage of time.