Come and Sit a While

Should you look at me 

I know what you'll see 

A dab of animated clay 

With flagging eyelids 

Pied hide, white hair 

Twangy hint of locality 

Come visit me at home 

Snowy roof can't chill 

Hearth and heart within 

Don't look too close 

The face clean-shaved 

Hair could use a trim 

Note the vintage abode 

Faded sweats and decor 

No one else lolls about 

To echo-test ponderings 

Or share mild merriment 

They all filtered away 

When I quit chasing fun 

Among perilous wild life 

Of forest and beach lore 

Don't delete contact yet 

We have legends to share 

Maybe lyrics with a flare 

Even some notes to compare 

Skewed views all the rage 

Tale of broken trail, swamp 

Fishing lure, lass and rake 

Sip of nosy wine to partake 

Cookpots old, recipes fresh 

Spit and steamy oven a-vent 

Snow ice cream fills the cup 

Harmonize in tune or croon 

Webwall clowns to discuss 

End times, and crime rates 

The latest on fiscal cliff 

Opinions welcome here 

Let fly your pent-up fears 

Colorful metaphors okay 

Any gripes under the sun 

To instigate or to debate 

Security provided by S&W 

So ignore age, cut of coat 

Wornout soles or slow gait 

Mosey in anytime or date 

No long lines and no wait 

Author's Note

Narcissism holds no thrill for the inquiring mind, and we old-timers get few visitors.

Reviews

[Betty Hermelee]

I love your metaphors .. “a dab of clay” reminds me of an aging man reflecting upon his life....melancholy, some quips about looking fit; very descriptive, reminds me of my dad in last months...
Speaking of the lost, forgotten life.. I love this poem, your words bring it to life
Nice!

[bigfootprint]

Thanks so much, Betty. The item surely qualifies as auto-biographical.

[Betty Hermelee]

That’s okay even better cause it’s real!

[Betty Hermelee]

A great comment on aging and a need for companionship. I remember my dad as he aged and most of his friends had passed away,leaving him quite lonely ,and yet he loved to interact. You use perfect descriptions, phrases to get a clear picture of this gentle man; exquisite write!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this reminds me of how my dad was his last couple years...all of the things he used to do...fishing, working as a volunteer for his church...taking care of my mom...
and after she passed...it felt like he lost his way, his reason to move forward...
he stalled...started losing his memory...but still always welcomed a visit.
really like this piece.
j.

[bigfootprint]

Thanks, Jacob. Yes, old-age slows the gait but the heart still reaches out for fellowship and solace.

[Betty Hermelee]

This person is aching for company, someone to talk to and who will listen; someone to reminisce; a lonely old soul, who may not be recognizable anymore. great word choice and I enjoyed the flow of the poem!

[bigfootprint]

Thank you, Betty. Very astute insights into needs and motivations. Yes,old is a lonely age, as much for standing by and watching the flow as for losing the antsy desires that drove the younger me, on the go seeking worth and tending need. It is usually the woman of the couple who keeps the social calendar full and exciting. I live alone by choice now. So much time to write but little passion or flare. You have a keen mind to share.

[Betty Hermelee]

Thank you; I’m happy to share it!