When he was young and handsome,
He had ladies by the score,
But now he's grown very old,
And has no ladies anymore.
But lest you fret at his distress,
Let me ease your needless pain,
And assure you he remembers
Each lovely lady's name.
His memories are better,
Than the romance novels of today,
And the scenes within his mind, more sweet,
Than any others now portrayed.
Some old folks are discontent,
And too many rue old age,
But this old soul sits back and smiles,
As he turns each memory page.
No reason to offer pity,
Nor, with comfort, pat his knee,
There's more going on in his old head,
Than your life may ever see.
That's why he smiles so much, my friend,
Which you falsely call dementia,
But I call him a happy man
Better off than you, I'll betcha'.
Now the moral of my story's this,
Make memories while you can,
So when you grow old, you will become,
A smiling, wise, old man!
(or woman!)
Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
Copyright April 2006 ~ 2008

Home Index Page

Ginny's Heart Index