I’m sitting at ease in my garden.
That’s what you do at my age.
Now that I’m knocking on 90
I seem like a bear in a cage.
I am looking at
Mrs Smith’s washing. There are items I ought not to see.
They are not for the eyes of old codgers,
So I carry on sipping my tea.
I return my gaze to
A cat is scratching the border.
I think I will tell
Her moggie is right out of order.
Ah! Here comes the main attraction,
All hopping around on the lawn.
Filling my garden with music
They started performing at dawn.
And now that I’ve travelled life’s roadway I’m sheltered from trouble and strife By enjoying the warmth of my garden
And pacing the rest of my life.
Jonathan Bryant, Worthing, W. Sussex.