Were it not but for you
I would feel young again
Foolish child I was
Looking forward each year
To this most hateful day
Did you not see change
What is a numbers use
As each fresh year condemns
Take me back please do
Return me to springtime
Where fresh is the morning
Then the future was bright
Mountains were there to climb
Stars were to wish upon
There’s no spring in my step
Can I catch that girl’s eye
Or run after the bus?
Birthdays, O birthdays
Yet were it not for them
I could not write these words
Image found at www.wisegeek.com
It feels like your poem and wish for more time is an anthesis to what i churned out rather gloomily today - time is the enemy perhaps - in a number of different ways...
ReplyDeleteAlways find freshness and positive vibes in your poems... even when they are fretting about birthdays!
ReplyDeleteThere is always that little "yet" in the end, the one that makes us not truly wish for a return to youth. I am grateful for your poems. Mighty fine picture!
ReplyDeletei love the joy of words / experiences / gems gathered under the heaps of birthdays...beautifully penned...
ReplyDeleteThere is much wisdom in this, esp how the poem wraps up.
ReplyDeleteI really loved this Old Egg! This is exactly how I felt on my birthday in May! So stupid to always want to get older only to finally get there and find it was all a trap!
ReplyDeleteI love the mountains to climb and stars to wish upon - the magic of looking back. Love, too, the awareness that we are still here, able to write, which is a very good thing.
ReplyDeleteWe all know the alternative to birthdays, don't we?
ReplyDeleteGreat lines.Frankly I think we all need to be like my MIL she decided this year instead of being 81 she'd turn around and be 18 because that's the year she liked the best.but Happy Birthday
ReplyDeleteAh, we cannot help sometimes wishing that on our birthdays the clock would go backwards rather than forwards & that spring in our step would return.... If only....
ReplyDeleteYou have given birthdays enough space to stand still reflect and move onwards. I live this in your poem
ReplyDeleteThanks for dropping byy blog today
Much love...
"Did you not see change
ReplyDeleteWhat is a numbers use
As each fresh year condemns"-- Great lines! Once you cross a particular age (could be any number/age) u realise a hundred things, have thousands of thoughts simmering each day. You loose the lustre of birthday celebration. Love poem, Robin.
Yes too bad we cannot turn back the hands on the clock if only one day a year.
ReplyDeleteBirthdays, O birthdays
ReplyDeleteWere it not but for you
I would feel young again
Chuckles! The opening stanza already indicative of the humor unfolding. A clever way of looking at birthdays. Wonderful humor, Robin!
Hank