07-27-2011, 07:18 AM
When age has finally dimmed my heart and I
have long forgotten youthful fantasies
re-lived, within those sweltering misty Mays--
Ice-Cream-Summer-days. If my distaste
of leisure deems that I begrudge my neighbor's
pleasure in a repetitious tune--
mirthful herald of an icy sweet
delight. If walks beneath a summer moon
no longer spark this frigid heart, you’ll know
I will have then become one more old fart!
I hereby give you absolute permission:
Take me out and shoot me! In addition
tan my hide, stretch it, paint it green--
let children use it as a trampoline.
©2011