1137

Getting old is not the problem

It's minds that age far more than skin

And what are flabby arms and wrinkles

Comared with brains that have worn thin?

Brian Hick March 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 15.3.24

 1085

New Year

I have a list of things I need to do

            To fill the time from now till then

            But sense the moment will come, when

I've done them all, and fear what will ensue.

Can I find a new way to perceive

            The long gap between wake and sleep

            Which will not require me to keep

An hourly check on what I might achieve?

Can I just let time slip by;

            Ignore the email and the phone,

            Switch off the TV, be alone

Without constraint or need to question why;

Sit and read, perhaps listen to some Bach;

            Sit and write, for my own pleasure,

            Sit and think, as if this leisure

Were a gift, a chance for a new start.

Brian Hick January 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 7.1.24

 1073

Sandown's as its best in mid-july

            But in the winter, truth to tell,

            It draws a different clientele -

Nobody under 80 need apply.

            ---------------------------

If you can push a nifty zimmer frame

            To the arcade on the pier

            There you'll find your usual chair

In its place, just ready for a game

Of bingo or, if you'd rather not,

            Then spend a happy hour or two -

            Given you've nothing else to do -

Feeding two-penny pieces in the slot

Of  the one armed bandit, while your friend

            rummages for her other purse -

            But this could be even worse,

At least you two are still able to stand

Which is more than those who simply slump

            In their armchairs at the Grand

            Staring blankly at the sand

Or west towards the corporation dump.

Along the promenade towards the cliffs

            Aged bodies slowly quake

            Towards a coffee and a cake

Before they drift back home hoping the lifts

Are working and they don't have to fight

          Four stories to their roof-top flat

          Where their leaky panes and scabby cat

Await the silent darkness of the night.

Retirement to the seaside was the plan

            Earl Grey and a nice Bath Bun

            Cocktails in the evening sun

A stroll along the prom to hear the band;

But grey clouds on the cliffs and icy sleet

            Pen up the silent days alone

          No one comes and no one phones

No one's left who you might chance to meet.

On rare occassions, risk the trip you dread

            To the Post Office to send

            Birthday greeting to a friend

You have not seen for years, and may be dead,

Then return with a supermarket bag

            Dinner for one to microwave

            Own label brandy, and points to save

For Christmas - plus the coupons from the mag -

And then - and then what follows in the days

            Alone, left staring at the sea

            Alone, when what you hoped would be

Slips unnoticed on towards the grave.

            --------------------------------------

Sandown snoozing gently by the sea

            Hopes the young will come once more

            When the old folk cease to snore

Restoring its Edwardian bon-homie;

Brian Hick December 2011

©copyright Sally Hick 29.12.23

 878

The Star  (local pub)

Why is my appetite so small

And portions always large?

Can it be that growing old

My stomach's now in charge?

Refusing cheeses late at night

Or red wine in the day;

Now Gavescon is my delight

To keep nightmares away.

Brian Hick December 2010

©copyright Sally Hick 16.12.22

 What tortured mind designed the parking meter,

Demanding not just any old donation

But, even before it will spew out a ticket,

Requires that you tap out your registation.

That of course assumes you can recall

The number and don't need to stride off back

To find the car and write it on your hand,

Only to find when you return a lack

Of logic in the buttons, which some fool

Has laid out vertically - as if we're all Chinese-

Crammed together and all below eye level

With markings that aren't large enough to read.

          Technology is getting far too bold -

          Or can it be that I am growing old?

Brian Hick 22.6.09

©copyright Sally Hick 3.6.22