Virtual Fiber Optics Poem by Andrea Pandas_Toy@msn.com

Getting old and growing old are two very different things;
One tells of stolen tunes while another hears music and sings.

The older I get the more I see it is by choice not course;
Allowing gravity to nudge and not pull me with its force.

Wisdom is a privilege gained not a fact of time that's certain;
By learning something new each day before the final curtain.

My steps are getting slower but not the desire in their pace.
I see more character called laugh lines growing in my face.

Teachers, doctors and policemen are younger than before;
Perhaps it is my vision since it's not as efficient any more.

Thank God my eyes still look ahead for a time to renew.
Now seeing rainbows and sunsets always there to view.

My waist is getting thicker and, gratefully, so is my skin.
As tolerance is a virtue before the golden years begin.

Laughter is the grandest sound, a melody to my ears;
Stirring up those old memories of my youthful years.

I don't want to mumble and grumble or wear a crusty scowl.
I beg you, shoot me quickly if I speak adventures of my bowel.

Using courage and serenity to fight this natural event.
Cause' going on with dignity is having time well spent.