Tell me not
for those a little advanced in age

Tell me not of all your pain 
what you can’t afford and more 
of that dropped litter in the lane 
about that sister you disdain.

Tell me not of times now fled 
when every bird sang at your will 
of lost days that swamp your head
where you squander with the dead.

But from the window of your seat 
dance your mind up to the sky 
sweep the sun around your feet 
with your eye this moment meet.

Let a smile come to your face 
greet the New Year with gentle grace.

Richard Scutter 31/12/21