You Think You're Getting Old by Bill Childers

So the limbs creak, and the joints object
To the routine you put them through.
Even worn muscles struggling to protect
Seem to rise in storm and protest too!

And your remembering can't seem to remember
What you came from the other room to get.
But, you do recall that Christmas is in December,
And, I'll bet your birthday hasn't left you yet!

Your head swims like your body no longer can,
And reaching down is a chore for sure.
But, you still tend tomatoes with a steady hand...
And, I'll bet you still string a deadly lure.

You say you can no longer reach the highest eve,
That it stretches your balance and luck.
Well, those few boards you have to leave
Will always carry signs of your caring touch.

And finally, you say the lathe now sits quiet,
No longer cranking out the flower stands.
But, just remember the places you've made bright
With ivy, mums and glorious flower fans.

So, I must say these things to you, my friend...
You're younger by far than most,
I raise my hand in salute to you, my friend,
And, to you... I lift a toast!

You'll never see old, not you, my friend,
You've tapped the secret of age.
You've learned how to be true, my friend,
But... you just might become a sage.

You think you're getting old, my friend?
Not by a darn sight... or a mile.
You've learned how to live bold, my friend...
You've learned how to live in style!