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Tired, but not Re-tired (‘plaint of fifties women)

Tired, but not retired

Its Sunday night and once again

I brace my brain

To face another week

Of daily grind

Whilst others who are younger

Can laze and potter

It might seem unkind

But it’s a bitter pill

To swallow

 

The years have passed

Since the date I thought

I’d reach that point of leisure

But still another year or two

I need to to do

Before I have that pleasure

 

Can people understand my fears?

That as I serve these extra years

There may not be much time for me

To see the things I want to see

And even if my health is good

The time I’ve lost is gone for good

The time I thought I’d paint and dance

And walk in parks or walk on sand

Or shop, or fly to foreign land

Or write or just to stay in bed

 

Instead

It’s Sunday night and I must face

Another forty hours away

And hope that I will live to see

A little time for me to play

 

I’m tired, but not re-tired.