Youth’s Old Age

69 in March

Youth’s Old Age

Often I feel an abundance of play in youth’s old age
Jibber Jabber, Hoota Hotta, pure junk,
Nocturnal snoozes with darkness in my eye’s grip,
I stare around the room seeing everything
Boy is that fun!
A call to the bathroom for what else
“Cursed the old man”!
Whoa sometimes curtails my redundancy in verbiage
Oh......I like that Whoa!
What else?
There is, just between you and I, an imaginary friend
We won’t name names here, will we.
Alright! Good night now, see you in morning’s arrival.

Reviews

[Alfred Kukitz]

Thanks Coyote!

You were quite a visitor!

Regards,
Al

[Coyote Poetry]

I enjoyed this poem my friend.
"Often I feel an abundance of play in youth’s old age
Jibber Jabber, Hoota Hotta, pure junk, "
I do like the above lines. I do dance with the grandchildren now. Not fancy, but fun. Thank you for sharing the amazing words and thoughts.
Coyote