Poem: Good Daughter

Good Daughter

by June Nash


Raised my children, now they’re grown

Husband’s passed, now on my own

Nights are quiet, days are too

Nothing left, of use, to do


Mama, she is slowing down

How long will she be aroun’?

Afraid she’ll die, all alone

She’s a bit accident prone


Daughter says come live with her

Didn’t want to, now not sure

I’d like to watch grandkids grow

Hate to be a burden though


Mom nursed me when I was young

Twisted life, look how it swung

She can rest under my arm

I’ll persuade her with my charm


As time passed, decisions made

With good daughter mama stayed

Times, they were not always good

None knew why, nor understood


My daughter’s sweet and caring

Won’t burden her by airing

Petty gripes about my state

Should not have come, now too late


Gave mom our room on first floor

Husband liked things as before

Children gripe, ‘cause can’t make noise

To appease, buy both more toys


Sweet dear, spoils the kids

Catering to husbands bids

I can help, perhaps I should

By dropping hints. That’d be good!


Mother dear, tries to be nice

Interferes, but should think thrice

It’s my home, but whose in charge

Those little hints, getting large


As time passed, a peace was made

With good daughter mama stayed

Times, they were often quite good

None knew why, nor understood


Talked to daughter, heart to heart

Began with a bumpy start

Talked about my feelings true

Asked her advice, what to do


Mama and me now are friends

For way we acted, made amends

When Mom watches kids it’s great

Let’s spouse and me have a date


Safe and secure on my own

In daughters house, now my home

Never thought I’d come to stay

But glad my kids led the way


Times were often bittersweet

When mom’s will and mine did meet

I gained a lot ‘cause she came

Though helping her was my aim


As time passes, life must fade

With good daughter mama stayed

Times, they were often quite good

None knew why, nor understood

Poem: Aged Eyes

Aged Eyes

woke from sleep with a yawn

opened eyes, time was gone

raced through life in a dream

running ‘til out of steam

plotted course with eyes blind

sharp focus clouding mind

vision bent on grand goals

blind to joys life extols

time to wake, softly drift

take it slow enjoy gift

of life, love, earthly glee

takes aged eyes to clear see

June Nash

Poem: Styles for Sylphs

Styles for Sylphs

Aging bodies, changing shape

Don’t like the way clothes now drape

Weight has shifted to my waist

Saggy in butt, not my taste


Dressed like old crone not my aim

Mass production is the blame

Store bought trousers, blue jeans too

All are made for select few


You might say they don’t know

The varied shapes women grow

I do not believe that is true

This indifference is not new


Stylers design to impress

Don’t want plump girls in their dress

Market to young pretty sylphs

Not those bodies whose parts shift


Must be why you often see

Older women, much like me

Attired in pants which bag and droop

Or joining the stretch pant group

June Nash

Poem on Aging: Scary Venture

Scary Venture

getting old is a scary venture

what future holds is not secure


pains of youth, fleeting, disregard

ignoring aches now getting hard


signs of aging may be gray hair

or pounds added in derrière


laugh it off, cannot stop the clock

each year’s anniversaries mock


in the morning upon waking,

notice body stiff and aching


cannot climb stairs with old ease

how’d I develop sitting disease?


BP high, cholesterol too

need start taking a pill or two


getting old is a scary venture

what future holds is not secure


body’s decline is eminent

but with studied care can augment


how to fight cruel adversary

is not easy, must not tarry


hair will continue to grow gray

but BP can be kept at bay


will compromise, watch what I eat

get off couch, start using feet.


attitude is half the battle

enjoy life and fight for control


to be lethargic is lethal

to accept this fate is fatal


getting old is a scary venture

what future holds is not secure

June Nash

Poem: Birthday Wish

Birthday Wish


My special friend is sixty three.

A year, times three, older than me.

In years he is old,

But like youth lives bold,

As a child, through life, he runs free.


This man he is not an old fart,

Though oft, early mornings, can’t start.

Give him cup of joe,

Then off he will go,

To adventures, following heart.


My special friend is sixty three.

In spirit much younger than me.

Works hard to keep fit,

Both body and wit.

Happy Birthday mon cher ami!

June Nash