The Old Man Reads Herrick
'Gather ye rosebuds while ye may'
I gathered some rosebuds in my youth,
But not enough, to tell the truth,
And sometimes now I mull the list
Of chances missed, of girls unkissed.
Then summer came; a lovely bloom
Filled all my life with rich perfume,
And every day was nice as sex.
I saw life through rose-tinted specs.
In the autumn spirits droop -
And poets too, and the bright troop
Once so flamboyant, is bereft
Of colour. Just the hips are left.
Old girl, itís late. Sit here by me
Where comfily together we
Can side by side, companionably,
Enjoy a cup of rose-hip tea.
If you have any thoughts on this poem, George Simmers
would be pleased to hear them.