Three Score & Ten
When I am past three score and ten
Don't fret if you should see me then
Take up the games I played in youth
Or act a little bit uncouth.
I might lift the hem of my skirt and dance
The way they do in Paris, France;
Or climb Old Man Turner's apple tree,
And if you call me down cry, "Fiddlededee!"
Or I'll find a piece of colored chalk
And invite you down for hopscotch on my front walk;
Then spend hours lying in the grass
Just to watch the butterflies pass.
I may dream and gaze at clouds all day
Or go out with my hair is disarray.
I'll sing while strolling down the street
And write poetry and have bare feet.
I'll paint green dragons and purple trees,
And have ice cream for dinner - no apologies .
Those who value only figure and fact
Will be alarmed by the way I act.
They'll say I've taken leave of my senses;
But you'll know I've only torn down fences,
And found that the wisdom of old age lies
In seeing the world through children's eyes.