I cannot trek, my knees give way,
The hills do beckon, but home I stay;
But when I shut my eyes, I am there
On the uneven slopes with the wind in my hair.
I stretch, I climb, to the top I go,
And I see you people way down below
Oh! that fragrant wet grass under my feet,
And that hard cold rock that becomes my seat,
That cold cutting breeze against my face.
Those are just memories that fill my space
When I watch you climbing without a care
Those same strong hills that are still standing there.
When I was young I was told,
Not just now, wait till you are old!
Did not wait, did not put knowledge to play,
So I huff and puff and waddle my way;
But to get out of bed and go for a trek –
Ooooh!, I turn round and dream in bed instead.
I shut my eyes, I have reached up there
Sexy, curvaceous – hey! Don’t you stare – But wait!
I sit up and think I did it when could –
So I can go back and dream as old people should.
I may be physically old but am mentally young.
Emotionally a babe not socially strung,
So here’s to my youth and the climbs still there,
Be it hills of earth, tension or care –
I am still ready, may need your hand at some time
So join me, come on, together let’s climb……..