DO THE OLD REALLY WANT TO BE YOUNG?

I know it's been a while since I last posted but, as you know, I've published another poetry book in the interim since I prolifically wrote to fill the hours of recuperation after surgery.  I did send you all a link for AN AGE OLD STORY and when I realized how easy it was, I decided to send a link to the other two.  I've only created a link for my last book, WORDS OF WITNESS so far, which I will attach here. If you can't click using the link, just cut and paste it. When I get the other one, I'll send that one, too.
http://www.blurb.com/b/4561376-words-of-witness

I was feeling the effects of not having written anything new and set about looking for inspiration.  I actually had developed a list of ideas for poems that I finally located, so tonight's post came from the idea list, and here it is.

MOMENTARY LAPSES

By Patty Lynn

I know that I came in here to get...I don’t know what.

This memory thing it gets to me, a real pain in the butt!

Why must it be the malady of what is called Old Age?

It’s like a rite of passage that I wish I could assuage!

There’s much about this journey that I treasure, truth be told,

But this darned ‘ol forgetfulness they blame on getting OLD.

There are those times when frustrated I see the signs of aging.

I merely look into a mirror and realize I’m facing…

The fact that I have lived each line, each wrinkle I have earned.

And yet I wouldn’t trade a one, they’ve taught me what I have learned.

Those dreaded lines & wrinkles are a testament of sorts…

Of happy times and sorrowful, my face of these reports.

Oh, there are times when bad prevails, we’re sure will never end,

But God will always see us through, an ear He’ll always lend.

Our port, He‘ll be, amidst the storms of life that come our way,

So lean on Him when troubles come for heavily they weigh.

Yes, God’s the One to call on when life’s problems overwhelm.

It’s well you know you can’t survive depending on yourself.

In looking back, I’ve had my share, yes, bad times came aplenty,

But in His care, since He was there, I’d not wish I was twenty.

Oh, “young” is what the “twenties” think the old would rather be,

But I’d not trade a single day of smiling, that’s the key.

“You mean you wouldn’t trade the bad for good times if you could?”

 “I wouldn’t ‘cause they made me who I am, as well they should.”

So, though I’m bothered that I can’t remember like I did,

I’m really happy that my life is one I’d call well lived!

The memories that I treasure, I’ve stored and can recall.

Those momentary lapses...that’s all they are, 
                                                                       that’s all.