
Don’t believe your best days as a man are behind you,
And that now all you can lift is your coffee cup.
For because we have days alone to ponder as guests
In places for hire around the world, life, for us, is looking up.
We both are older, and we’ve learned to pick our battles,
Knowing we don’t have to fight with fists and jump into every fray.
We don’t follow every new trend, recognizing the smoke and mirrors
Of con artists that can harden the softest hearts of their prey.
Now there’s time to build snowmen with coals for eyes with our grandkids,
Work is not an impediment to you being with the family bunch.
Wool mittens drenched by snow may cause your arthritis to flare,
But doesn’t it feel great to no longer be under a time crunch?
So, yes, your hair has turned gray, and there are more aches and pains.
Yet, I still get a visceral feeling in my body from your wondrous wicked smile.
So, don’t worry if the young lads at the pub think that you are over the hill,
For to me, your debonair classiness will never go out of style.
Written for the Wordle #273 from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie: The twenty word prpmpts are in bold. Fandango prompt is Visceral.
How sweet!
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