Happy Fathers Day!
06-19-2005, 07:06 PM
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Happy Fathers Day! To all you Dads out there, this is a little poem I found in some of my Grandpa's papers. Its fitting no matter what you drive or how old you are because eventually, you'll be reciting this 
How do I know my youth is spent?
Well, MY GET UP AND GO, GOT UP AND WENT!
But in spite of it all, I am able to grin
When I recall where my "GET UP" has been.
Old age is golden, so I've heard said,
But sometimes I wonder when I get into bed,
With my ears in the dresser, my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on the table until I wake up,
The sleep dims my eyes, I say to myself,
Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?
And I am happy to say, as I close the door,
My friends are the same, 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 I still would dance the whole night through.
Now I am old and 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, 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 I have retired from life's competition,
I busy myself with complete repetition.
I get up each morning and dust off my wits,
Pick up the paper and read the obits.
If my name is missing, I know I'm not dead,
So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed!
How do I know my youth is spent?
Well, MY GET UP AND GO, GOT UP AND WENT!
But in spite of it all, I am able to grin
When I recall where my "GET UP" has been.
Old age is golden, so I've heard said,
But sometimes I wonder when I get into bed,
With my ears in the dresser, my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on the table until I wake up,
The sleep dims my eyes, I say to myself,
Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?
And I am happy to say, as I close the door,
My friends are the same, 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 I still would dance the whole night through.
Now I am old and 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, 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 I have retired from life's competition,
I busy myself with complete repetition.
I get up each morning and dust off my wits,
Pick up the paper and read the obits.
If my name is missing, I know I'm not dead,
So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed!
