ENTRY # FIFTEEN

Good Morning.

It's a nice morning in Tennessee, at 7:45 the tempeature is 52 , with a high of 75 expected today. I don't have my pictures ready yet, so I am going to post a poem that I like written by Edgar Guest.
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Old Age.

I used to think that growing old was reckoned just in years, But who can name the very date when weariness appears ? I find no stated time when man, obedient to a law, Must settle in an easy chair and from the world withdraw. Old age is rather curious, or so it seems to me, I know old men at forty and young men at seventy-three.

Some men keep all their friendships warm, and welcome friendships new, They have no time to sit and mourn the things they use to do. This changing world they greet with joy and never bow to fate; On ever fresh adventure they set out with hearts elate. From chilling fear and bitter dread they keep their spirits free, While some men seem old
at forty they stay young at seventy-three.

So much to do, so much to learn, so much in which to share ! With twinkling eyes and mind alert some brave both time and care. And this I've learned from other men, that only they are old, Who think with something that has passed the tale of life is told. For ages not alone of time, or we should never see, Men old and bent at forty and men young at seventy-three.

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All for today. See you soon with some interesting pictures.

BYE BYE