This Aging Thing

Each morning Lord, I rise with the Sun,
And when wake-up prayer is through,
I'm ready to do what is such fun,
Write a Praise, or Poem, to YOU.

This Aging Thing
By Arley Steinhour 071913

I have a lot of things to do,
But, can't remember a single one,
That means I must be through,
And all my work, is done.

I think that I am going to like,
This aging thing in life,
Living simple, riding a bike,
Free of earning a living, strife.

Another thing, is meals on wheels
Made with the best little money can buy,
Served, piping warm, so, if anyone feels,
Food burned them, you'll know they lie.

Young folk, how I love their place,
Some open doors, some ruin the day,
Each and every one, with a smile on face,
Two even said, for their food I should pay.

Discounts galore, if we have the rest,
Pay day don't go very far,
We don't complain, just do our best,
Living frugal, to save a penny, in a jar.

Three or four, ago, was still in my youth,
That's how time pasted, it seems,
Worked hard, for living, and had every tooth,
With five children, and life living my dreams.

So, when you see this old man on the street,
And, you've a wonder from whence he came,
I can tell you stories, you'll think are neat,
Memory's perfect, if you don't ask my name.

AMEN (am I done yet?)