All love to reach a ripe old age in life;
A long life-span is Maker’s gift to some;
Attaining hundred years is not so rife;
To most, a peaceful death is just welcome.
Old age gives time to think and pray to God;
Past memories of good and bad days flash;
Diseases, frailty are the only rod;
Some find it difficult to eat or wash.
Some lucky ones are hale and hearty still;
Their loving kith and kin, so often throng;
Some pray that they must never fall down ill;
Some spend their old age engrossed in some song.
Not all old-timers leave the world quite fast;
In somnolence profound, some breathe their last!
Dedicated to all old persons, who keep their cheer.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-11-2008
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another masterpiece, Mr. Celes! Spectacular!