I was sorta living when I got to age four,

I could walk, got most me teeth, might be getting more!

Now, boy! am I living, I've got to ten plus four,

I've got three hairs on me chest, and I fancy the girl next door!

This is what you'd call living, for a man of twenty-four!

Seen the world, came back, married Jill next door.

I suppose you call this living, for a man of thirty four,

I'm in the Court, she's got the house, still she wants more!

Things are quite different now, I'm mature forty four,

The past I've left behind me, it's the future I'm looking for.

I'm really happy with myself, now at fifty four,

And I'm really looking forward to a hundred seasons more!

Now, I think I've lived a lifetime, I've got to sixty four,

MR. TIME, I'll finish what I started, just a few years more.

My son has made a grandchild, that makes three or four?

And looking at my daughter, I think there will be more.

Yes, I have lived a lifetime, I think I'm eighty four,

There's some sort of party going on, wonder who it's for ?

Oh, just wait a moment will you, while I answer the front door,

It's MR. TIME! he wants to take me, where I haven't been before.

I won't pack too much to carry, he says to travel light,

We'll get there in the morning, I can sleep through the flight,

So I'll say "Goodbye now!" and just go on my way,

And my advice to you is, "Son, Make each day a good day !" 

H.M.M © 20-11-92.

The ever changing Seasons of Life inspired this rhyme