50+ sports club

We play at racquet sports
and bowls and swim and socialise
and organise long local walks
and Christmas meals and holidays.

We pan last night's TV,
update each other's families,
discuss the latest films we've seen
and recommend new holidays.

We analyse our ills,
admire the drama group's new play,
dissect our recent restaurant meals,
consider our next holiday.

Now cruises are much favoured -
the almost perfect combination
of foreign places lightly savoured
from quarantined accomodation.

The sky is blue and calm
the sea; we sail along relaxed,
not fearing any likely harm
from winged objects at our backs.

But up ahead they forecast storms;
conditions will deteriorate
and though the evening sun still warms,
there's nothing we can do but wait

as fading power brings concern
when things start to go wrong.
For we can't mend when we can't learn,
no longer being young.

The structure suffers from fatigue;
the frame begins to shake and creak
and though embarrassing to believe,
the vessel starts to leak.

The navigational aids won't work
and worn parts need replacing;
there isn't any way to shirk
the future that we're facing.

The sea ahead is all downhill
but it won't help us if we rage
against the dying light so we'll
just carry on cruising through old age.

Sparrowhawk

A sudden shower of white feathers
raining down from the edge of an oak tree.

We stared and stunned each other 'cross the room.
I shouldered through the crowd to reach her.
I took her hand and kissed it. Then her mouth.
"Get off ! What are you doing ? Who are you ?"
"Don't be upset." I said, "We know each other
from eternity. You're in my dream
and I in yours. We share a common soul."
"You're mad." she said, "Completely off your head."
"No, no, not so. Marry me." I beseeched her.
"This is ridiculous."
"Come with me now."
"With you ? Where to ?"
"My car. My house. My life. My bed."
"I don't believe I'm hearing this." she said.
I kissed her hand and then her mouth. She came.
We made love more than sex yet in the gloom
there wasn't anything I could teach her.
The early morning light peered round the blind,
the herald of another Monday murk.
The pillow held no memory of her head.
I ate some breakfast. Went to work.

Though not a leper, I know the feeling
of a pariah with skin that's peeling.
It's because my wrinkles caused disgust
when my eye twinkled with ageing lust
and I asked a young woman to dance with me
in a local disco at seventy three.
The look of horror that crossed her face
really shocked me back to my place.
But it's good my skin hasn't worn too thin -
my elephant hide 'll let me try agin !

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Round Oz at eighty

It seemed a good idea at the time -
a car drive round Australia.
They said "You're too old."
I said "What the hell.
I've always been a bit of a failure.
Now before I'm dead and cold
I want to do something well.

Along the way I made several friends,
young women in particular.
They said "You're so brave."
I said "Not at all."
and avoided most talk vehicular.
"But I always give a cheery wave
to drivers who think I crawl.

They'd give me a sort of thumbs-up sign
but use their middle finger."
One girl was outraged -
"To a man of eighty !"
Now I don't want to be a pommy whinger
but eighty's not my actual age -
it's my speed in k p h.

Happiness

Through two decades of decadence we hunted fun,
familiar from explorers' tales, sighted among
the city clubs and bars, cornered and then captured
by shots of alcohol but shrivelled to dust when dead.
We found the fields where joy and jubilation thrived
but scissored flowers withered and did not survive;
we conquered distant mountains where excitement peaked
but soured to anticlimax in the following week;
we panned for nuggets of enjoyment in the streams
and mined the dark for hints of adult pleasure dreams;
we struck rich veins of entertainment underground
but mainly they just aimed to shock or to astound;
we played at passion, toyed with thrills and broke taboos
but always with the values we let others choose.
They sold unmissable adventures, awesome sights,
incredible activities, fantastic nights,
enough events to stoke some older folks' resentment
but even then they couldn't guarantee contentment.
Such transient events give only fleeting fun
and stimulate to further fixes once begun
for they themselves aren't longer lasting happiness
which isn't anywhere for sale and even less
for purchase on the sly. Instead that must be earned
by honest self-examination till we've learned
to value satisfaction of a chore well done,
the savour of a game played well although not won,
some job fulfilment, comradeship at work (for some),
maturity to be a father or a mum,
the overall delight of children through the years
and how to cope with sorrow, grief and tears.
Yet what conduces most to happiness that lasts
is still the magic between man and woman past
infatuation through reliability
and trust to sexual companionship. If we
achieve that fortunate state, then happiness is what
we hardly notice like the unvalued bedrock
in which precious stones are found, the dull support
of mounts for glittering jewels. Always men have thought
what constitutes true happiness - it's just perhaps
the background music to life, unnoticed till it stops.
And so to end with something snappy -
happiness is when you're not unhappy !