Days Well Spent Poem by Sarah Persson

The old man sits with his head tipped back,
His flat cap resting on a hairless scalp,
Slippers on his feet and the coal fire lit,
The stereo plays well remembered tracks.

Once well known as the Banjo man,
The tunes still beat in his heart,
He sits each day in a worn out chair,
In memory now, the dance would start.

He'd always had such rhythm,
He'd played tunes that really lifted souls,
An entire room would spring to life,
With each tap and strum, a story unfolds.

Before too long his feet start tapping,
With his pipe clutched tight in his hand,
He smiles and sings and remembers well,
The songs he played in his youthful band.

Time passed so fast but he'd no regrets,
He'd lost close friends but still looking back,
He'd spent his days filled with so much fun,
And finds memories still in each well played track.