Growing Old Poem by Thomas Vaughan Jones

We outgrow dancing every night,
and sit home by the firelight;
Relaxing with the family
with children dangling from our knee.
The wild oat days are dead and done,
but what of when the kids are gone?

Our son grows up, our daughter weds.
The family expands and spreads.
The children come from wide and far,
to ransack Grandma’s cookie jar;
But what prepares us for the day
when all these children fly away?

The world revolves, the years speed by.
Life’s song becomes a lullaby.
We search for some familiar face,
some comfort in our time and space,
A shoulder we can cry upon.
when all we loved in life has gone.

If fortune smiles, and nature’s kind,
before we leave the world behind,
as we await our final call,
we once again may see them all.
When God sits by our rocking chair,
in our mind’s eye, they’ll all be there.