Getting Old

I’m getting old, at least I think I am

I quite often wonder WHO I am

Names and dates I do forget

What was it I went to the shops to get?

I wandered up and down the street

Was I looking for veg or meat?

Was it a cake or some other treat?

What was it that got me on my feet?

Confused, I was about to give up hope

I checked my pockets for a note

There it was, written in bold

Come home now! You’re getting old.

Ron Gretton

Carlton