Age Just Don'T Care
Just past some dips along this road
That oak still spreads its dusty leaves,
Arthritic limbs ideal to climb—
As kids, post-school, we’d gather there.
Then, Em was six, four grades behind,
Yet, fear I felt when she climbed high
Or darted quick, that spry gazelle,
Evading tag across the field;
Her kindly nature filled my dreams,
I keenly watched her growing up,
Until my time to ship to war:
Her letters came, pink cursive words.
Well, home I went, a jaded man
‘Til spying Em sprawled on Pine Beach—
She’d sprouted up, those years I missed,
And ripened nice where my eyes longed.
Her glance found mine beneath that sun,
She wondered if I still climb trees;
I wagged my face and felt it burn,
Then asked her to the movie show.
A purple skirt, white blouse she wore,
She clutched my hand through scary scenes.
And when time fell to say good-night,
Upon the porch, her mouth kissed back!
How glad we were to share our time,
My truck, we raced on these back roads
And hid from moonbeams where we necked
Until it dawned our time had come …
Now, years have flooded ‘neath our bridge
But fondly, still, I do recall
Her very words, that honeymoon:
“When Cupid calls, age just don’t care.”
December 15, 2017
Age Doesn’t Matter When You’re In Love Poetry Contest
Julie Leigh Rodeheaver, Sponsor
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