Between The Lines - Sheila's Guests And Reviews
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At ten I dreamed
perhaps I'd be
a teen, and double figures not enough
to comfort me.
At twenty, now
I'd learned somehow
those teen years really couldn't be all they're
cracked up to be.
cracked up to be.
At thirty, married,
kids and harried,
chasing through the years and tears that trucked
and parried me...
At forty life
begins, they said
so leave behind the things, and overhead
the airplane bins
fall open. Fifty,
scared and thrifty.
Coming soon, retirement, nifty dream
I thought, but how?
And sixty's dark desire to live again
won't comfort me.
At ten pm
I guess I'll dream, and then...
I was meant to write a blogpost about how I feel, blogging at that certain (getting ever more certain) age. But then I wrote a poem about how I feel as that certain (scary) age approaches, so I hope that's okay. As to how I feel about blogging, can someone please tell me why hours as well as clothes shrink as the years go by? If there were more or longer hours I promise I'd blog more regularly and even write more books. Instead, like the red queen, I'm running as fast as I can and not quite staying still. How about you?
Comments
When I turned 50 something clicked right in my brain, felt more sure of self than ever had, had more fun, loved sex even more, felt free-er than ever had. Will be 76 next month but so enjoy "meeting" such fantastic women on blogs. Blog land is play land for so many and about discovering ourselves, we're not alone. I love being tiny part of it. Keeps me reading, meeting, learning so many incredible women of all ages. Happy weekend