When I was young, I'd sow some oats, and generally carouse:
I guess I liked to socialize with people more than cows.
Then I met my wife-to-be, who turned my life around:
She taught me how to reach for dreams, with both feet on the ground.

We got married, kept the cows, and had a couple kids.
Most every night, I'd read to them 'til they had droopy lids.
Seems I blinked, and they were gone: they sure did grow up fast.
Those books became reminders of the good times in the past.

Now, tonight is New Year's Eve: a chance to raise some heck
And wake up in the mornin' just a'feelin' like a wreck.
No thanks, I'll pass, 'cause three grandkids are gonna stay the night.
I dug out those ol' storybooks, and they're a welcomed sight.

Father Time has got this world a'marchin' to his beat
And, sure enough, another year is practically complete.
Once, a famous poet wrote that "all the world's a stage,"
But I see it as a storybook, and it's time to turn a page.

�2004, Bruce Satta
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.


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