Poet: C. A. Lynch
In the land of years, where wrinkles grow,
We find humor in age, a delightful show.
With every candle on our cake's sweet mound,
We laugh and joke, for age knows no bound.
Gray hairs sprout like weeds, uninvited guests,
But we flaunt them proudly, for they're our jests.
Forgetfulness becomes a comical friend,
Searching for keys that vanished, we pretend.
We may move slower, like snails in a race,
But our spirit dances at a lively pace.
With age, we earn a license to be bold,
To wear mismatched socks, for we're never old.
So let's embrace each wrinkle, each laugh line,
For they're proof we've had a jolly good time.
With humor as our guide, we'll turn the page,
And make the most of this delightful stage.
Poet: C. A. Lynch
When I was younger, oh how I wished to be grown,
To have freedom and independence, a life of my own.
But now I'm older, wrinkles etched on my face,
I long for the days of youthful grace.
Oh tell me, what is the perfect age,
Is it when you're young and full of rage?
Or is it when you're wise and sage,
But can't remember where you laid your car keys at this stage?
So if by chance you find the answer,
Please do let me know so I can be wiser.
For now, I'll enjoy both young and old,
And cherish every moment, before it grows old.
Poet: C. A. Lynch
Age is just a number, so they say,
And it's true in every single way.
It's not the wrinkles or the gray hair,
But the youthful spirit that you wear.
Forget the number on your birth certificate,
And embrace the joy that makes you vivacious.
Time cannot define how young you feel,
So live life to the fullest and keep it real!
Poet: C. A. Lynch
You're young only once, so don't be too rash,
Enjoy your age, with all its cunning flash.
Don't wish to grow up, for it's a tedious bore,
Stay young at heart, and never ask for more.
Silly dances and laughs that are hearty,
Candy floss and parties that start latey,
Oh the joy of youth we should cherish in our way
Being 'old' can wait until another day!
Poet: C. A. Lynch
When you�re young and spry,
You think you�ll never die,
You party all night long,
And wake up with a song.
But then you hit middle age,
And things start to change,
Your hair begins to gray,
And your back begins to sway.
And when you�re old and gray,
You have many memories that stay,
You have the wisdom to share,
And you take more dares.
But don�t worry, my friend,
Age is just a number in the end,
So go ahead and live your life,
And don�t let age cause you strife!
Poet: C. A. Lynch
Time passes quickly, so they say,
But wrinkles and gray hairs won't go away.
It's what we do with our time that counts,
Making an impact, that's what amounts.
Hitting the snooze or waking with cheer,
A daily choice as life draws near.
Let's make our lives count for something great,
Impacting others before it's too late.
Poet: C. A. Lynch
In the realm of age, we find a jest,
Do we wear out or keep trying our best?
Does time weigh heavy, our spirits chained?
Or do we dance with zest, completely unrestrained?
With each passing year, a new chance we seize,
To try new things, and do as we please.
Age may whisper "slow down" with a sigh,
But we say "heck no!" and reach for the sky.
We won't let wrinkles define our game,
We keep moving forward, embracing no shame.
Time may tick, but we won't lose track,
Living each day with a vibrant, bold knack.
So let's defy the notion of growing old,
With hearts of fire, never settling to mold.
We'll laugh, we'll play, with a youthful strife,
For in our souls, we're alive with the zest for life!
