POETRY

 

 

 

 

"I'M NOT OLD...JUST MATURE"

Today at the drugstore, the clerk was a gent.
From my purchase this chap took off ten percent.
I asked for the cause of a lesser amount;
And he answered, "Because of the Seniors Discount."

I went to McDonald's for a burger and fries;
And there, once again, got quite a surprise.
The clerk poured some coffee which he handed to me.
He said, "For you, Seniors, the coffee is free."

Understand--I'm not old--I'm merely mature;
But some things are changing, temporarily, I'm sure.
The newspaper print gets smaller each day,
And people speak softer--can't hear what they say.

My teeth are my own (I have the receipt.),
And my glasses identify people I meet.
Oh, I've slowed down a bit . . . not a lot, I am sure.
You see, I'm not old . . . I'm only mature.

The gold in my hair has been bleached by the sun.
You should see all the damage that clorine has done.
Washing my hair has turned it all white,
But don't call it gray . . . saying "blond" is just right.

My car is all paid for . . . not a nickel is owed.
Yet a kid yells, "Old duffer . . . get off of the road!"
My car has no scratches . . . not even a dent.
Still I get all that guff from a punk who's "Hell bent."

My friends all get older . . . much faster than me.
They seem much more wrinkled, from what I can see.
I've got "character lines," not wrinkles . . . for sure,
But don't call me old . . . just call me mature.

The steps in the houses they're building today
Are so high that they take . . . your breath all away;
And the streets are much steeper than ten years ago.
That should explain why my walking is slow.

But I'm keeping up on what's hip and what's new,
And I think I can still dance a mean boogaloo.
I'm still in the running . . . in this I'm secure,
I'm not really old . . . I'm only mature.

 

 

 

 

LAST NIGHT I KNELT WHERE HIRAM KNELT

Last night I knelt where Hiram knelt
and took an obligation
today I'm closer to my God
and I'm a Master Mason

Tho' heretofore my fellow men
seemed each one like the other
today I search each one apart
I'm looking for my brother

And as I feel his friendly grip
it fills my heart with pride
I know that while I'm on the square
that he is by my side

His footsteps on my errand go
if I should such require:
His prayers will lead in my behalf
if I should so desire

My words are safe within his breast
as though within my own
his hand forever at my back
to help me safely home

Good counsel whispers in my ear
and warns of any danger
By square and compass, Brother now!
Who once would call me stranger

I might have lived a moral life
and risen to distinction
Without my Brothers helping hand
and fellowship of Masons

But God, who knows how hard it is
to resist life's temptations
knows why I knelt where Hiram knelt
and took that obligation.

Pat M. Armstrong

 

 

 

 

I SAT IN LODGE WITH YOU

There is a saying filled with cheer,
Which calls a man to fellowship.
It means as much for him to hear
As lies within the brother grip.

Nay, more! It opens wide the way
To friendliness sincere and true;
There are no strangers when you say
To me: "I sat in lodge with you."

When that is said, then I am known;
There is no questioning nor doubt;
I need not walk my path alone
Nor from my fellows be shut out.

Those words hold all of brotherhood
And help me face the world anew
There's something deep and rich and good
In this: "I sat in lodge with you."

Though in far lands one needs must roam
By sea and shore and hill and plain,
Those words bring him a touch of home
And lighten tasks that seem in vain.

Men's faces are no longer strange
But seem as those he always knew
When some one brings the joyous change
With this: "I sat in lodge with you."

So you, my brother, now and then
Have often put me in your debt
By showing forth to other men
That you your friends do not forget.

When all the world seems gray and cold
And I am weary, worn and blue
Then comes this golden thought I hold
You said: "I sat in lodge with you."

When to the last great Lodge you fare
My prayer is that I may be
One of your friends who wait you there
Intent your smiling face to see.

We, with the warden at the gate,
Will have a pleasant task to do;
We'll call, though you come soon or late:
"Come in! We sat in lodge with you!"

Wilbur D. Nesbit

 

 

 

 

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