My Get-Up-And-Go
Has Got-Up-And-Went
How do I know my youth is all spent?
Well, my get-up-and-go has got-up-and-went!
But in spite of it all, I’m able to grin
When I think where my get-up-and-go has been.
Old age is golden, so I’ve heard it said,
But sometimes I wonder, on going to bed –
With my ears in a drawer, and my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on the table until I wake up.
Ere sleep dims my eyes, I say to myself,
“Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?”
I’m happy to say as I close my door,
My friends are the same – only perhaps even more.
When I was young, my slippers were red,
I could kick up my heels – right over my head.
When I grew older, my slippers were blue,
But still I could dance the whole night through.
Now I am old, my slippers are black,
I walk to the store, and puff my way back.
The reason I know my youth is all spent,
My get-up-and-go has got-up-and-went!
But I really don’t mind when I think with a grin,
Of all the grand places my get-up has been.
Since being retired from life’s competition,
I busy myself with complete repetition.
I get up in the morning, dust off my wits,
Pick up the paper and read the ‘obits’,
If my name is not there – I know I’m not dead:
So I get a good breakfast – and go back to bed!
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Source Unknown
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