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Posts Tagged ‘age’

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I
Age
Can not
Wrap my mind
Around the concept
Half a century I have seen
Still a child’s youth I keep in my heart, in my laughter
I am but a time traveler
Playing time’s wicked
Little game
Age
I


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Day 12 of National Poetry Month 2017 – Fibonacci

Image and words by Cicely Robin Laing © 2017

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CicelyRobinLaing©2014

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He held the Earth in his hands…

As he kneaded and beat the clay…

I used to hear him sing a song…

He had something that he wanted to say…

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“Age is a fiery furnace…

Where life’s illusions are burned away…

Dreams and ambition turn to ash…

And youth is hardened in the clay…

Choices made will tint the glaze…

Experiences crackle and craze…

We may wish for fine white porcelain…

but rough stoneware serves the day…

For when the kiln is finally slid open…

Even the potter does not always get his way…”

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He held the Earth in his hands…

as he kneaded and beat the clay…

I used to hear him sing a song…

I wish I had listened to what he used to say…

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Day 27… Image 27… Poem 27….

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National Poetry Writing Month

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Words and Image by Cicely Robin Laing ©2015

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CicelyRobinLaing©2014

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Last time I checked I was just getting one day older…
next thing I know I’ve aged another WHOLE YEAR!
Please don’t judge me by my wrinkles… I’ve earned every one of them!

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Age bites… back… but who cares….

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CicelyRobinLaing©2014

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Can Heroes get old…?

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Dexter spent his life as a great superhero.
But lately he felt he was less than a zero.
Time was finally catching up to him,
And all his prospects looked rather grim.
He found he could no longer leap,
Without a “crick” or a “crack” or a “creep”.
His flying became more like fluttering,
And it left the spectators muttering.
If by chance he tried to catch a bullet,
It was more likely to end up in his gullet.
Yes, Dexter was feeling all his miles,
And he was tired of all the continual trials.
It was so evident that at this stage,
No disguise would mask his age.
Muscles once robust and stout,
Tended to rather to flop about…

Still, he did his best to save the day.
Bad guys tended to stayed out of his way.
But if a super villain should reappear,
Dexter worried the end would be severe.
He no longer felt the drive to route evil out.
Rather he tended to meandered all about,
Seeking a chance meeting with doers wrong.
It made his days rather stupid and long…

So, Derek decided it was time to retire.
While the public still had things to admire.
He hoped they’d remember the things he’d done,
And reminisce on the battles he’d fought and won.
They threw him a parade of pink ticket tape.
Then he hung up his cape and made his escape…

He found a new home near a lovely fjord,
That had once belonged to a rather rich lord.
It wasn’t long before the boredom set in,
And retirement began to feel rather thin.
But what can an old superhero do?
Poor Dexter found he hadn’t a clue…

He tried jigsaw puzzles, but it wasn’t his thing.
He tried karaoke, but he just couldn’t sing.
The neighbors began to worry at night.
Dexter began to sleepwalk in flight!
The last straw came in the garden one day.
He got mad at a weed and shot his laser ray.
The destruction before him left a lasting impression,
And deeper he sank in his super depression…

Just when he thought all hope was lost,
Redemption came at marginal cost.
There came a soft knock at his front door.
When he opened it a little girl fell onto his floor.
“Please sir” she said, “Won’t you please help me out?
There’s a boy in the street who wants to knock me about!
I’m on my way to the school and must cross the street,
but he says I must pay him or I’ll be eating concrete!”

It didn’t take long for Dexter to sort it all out.
The boy gave it up without a whimper or shout.
The little girl hugged him and went on her way,
And Dexter was left with a new goal that day.
He got a new job as the school crossing guard…
Though the evils were small and it wasn’t too hard,
The love of the children gave his life a new start.
He kept them all safe and he knew in his heart,
That though he gave up the super life and all it’s applause,
At the end of the day… a hero he still was…

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Shouldn’t we all be heroes? Imagine how nice that would be.

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Day 28 of  “Face Lines… and Story Lines” 

Words and Image by Cicely Robin Laing©2014

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