The Gift Poem by Maureen Pickford
The Gift
Wake up and stretch
Don't think ahead
Open your eyes
Get out of bed
Plant your two feet
On to the floor
Then shuffle out
The bedroom door
Enjoy the clean
Scent of the soap
Wash your gnarled hands
Try not to mope
Steal a quick look
A well worn face!
Maybe lines but
They're etched with grace
This day is yours
Though you've grown old
Be glad you're here
See it unfold!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/2/2024 1:32:13 PM # 1.0.0.1119
