My Days Are Growing Shorter Poem by Ronald Chapman

First signs of fall are beginning to be seen,
I'm getting older.

It will soon be time to rake up the fallen leaves,
My children are grown.

I dread, icy cold days are coming,
I will soon be alone.

The laid back days of summer are ending,
No more children's weddings.

My last barbecue is Labor Day weekend,
My party life is ending.

My eyes will no longer need to be shaded from the sun,
My fun has turned into nothing!

No more trips to the beach to swim in the ocean blue,
No more waking, the kids for school.

Soon, I will be shoveling snow,
Oh!

Why can't we have summer all year round?
No more sounds of children playing in the snow brings a frown.

My days are growing shorter.