“Don’t grow old,”
my father says
–my father
who is ninety-two next week,
who has played baseball
in vacant lots,
who has relished ice shavings
delivered by horsedrawn wagons,
and gazed through St. Louis streetcar
windows before the Arch was imagined–
“Don’t grow old,”
my father sighs
through long distance phone wires
or maybe beyond them,
New Age wisdom
via satellites,
ageless
with love.
Jewniquely Myself 
If only it were possible Joan. Beautiful poem
I think your “wild” days prove your ability to not grow old…blessings and love to you my precious Lorraine!
Thankyou so much Joan. Blessings and love to you too.
“New age wisdom via satellites, ageless with love — sounds so magical though i may not be understanding its deeper meaning…Happy Birthday to your father….Thank you for these words. 🙂
Not sure there is a deeper meaning…just wonder of my father’s life experience, his love of life, his tender and determined heart. Thank you for your sweet birthday wishes, and company, dearest friend!
All your words are so beautiful – like pink sugar candy 🙂 You are blessed to have your father and he to have you as his own little girl. 🙂
Yes, I am grateful that both my father and mother live…although many miles fall between us. Their love is evident, such a support to me. Thank you for your sweet remarks, dear friend!