I am sucker for love poems about days gone by and creative rhymes, and this poem has both. Enjoy!
Sixteen and Sixty
By Jim Assid, Sioux Falls
The smell of roses in your hair,
Is like the trade winds’ balmy air.
Your smile so sweet and rosy-cheeked
Makes me forget my gray hair streaked.
If I were young like you, my dear,
I’d ask if one like you could care
For one like me with all life’s wear.
But, as you see, love’s days are done.
The passing years their toll have won,
And old men lose their sense of fun.
For we old gramps with muscle cramps
Can’t run about and hunt romance.
We seek our chairs beside the fire,
To dream of youth and heart’s desire.
Originally published in Pasque Petals 75.2, Autumn 2000
Featured image by Anne Davis 773 under the creative commons license on Flickr.