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