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.

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