My mother started writing poetry when she got older. They were much in demand at whist drives and such other social events that she attended. This is one she wrote about growing older.

A Message of Hope.

Isn’t it great to be sixty?

Isn’t it great to be old?

I feel it’s a stage

Like coming of age

 And so much more life to unfold.

——————-

I’m so looking forward to travel;

Half fares and concessions and that

And hair-dos, cut price

So I’ll try to look nice.

There’s always Oxfam for a hat!

—————

But who needs a hat? Like the Royals

I’ll wear a silk scarf with aplomb.

You can still cut a dash

Without loads of cash,

And  think of the good times to come.

—————-

Oh isn’t it great to be sixty.

Don’t vegetate there in your room.

Look forward, not back.

You’ll soon get the knack

Dispersing, dispensing with gloom.

---

—————

Yes, I’m very glad to be sixty!

No need to pretend any more.

Do just as I please

And as free as the breeze

Life still has its pleasures in store.

As you can see from this poem, she was an optimist and great fun to be with. She died at the age of 80 in 1990 with her humour and good spirits intact.

I still miss her.