Ignoring The Call

a poem by Sandra Conner

Middle age is calling me,
But I just cannot go.
I have too much of childhood left,
So much that I don’t know.

Why, I still love to color
And to play with paper dolls.
I still delight in bubble pipes
And bouncing rubber balls.

Ah, middle age is calling me,
But I just cannot go.
I still feel like a coed,
Full of life from head to toe.

Yes, middle age is calling me,
But my decision’s made.
I’m just too young at heart to go.
Middle age’ll have to wait!

Anticipation

a poem by Sandra Conner

Coming and going,
To-ing and fro-ing,
Thoughts in a dither,
Stomach aquiver …

Scurrying, worrying,
Phoning, conversing,
Weighing last doubts,
Last chance to bow out …

Checking all pockets,
Fastening lockets,
Rosebuds and bouquets,
Fragrant, sublime haze …

Guest in their places,
Smiles on the faces,
Music on swelling tide,
“Here Comes The Bride.”