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Eighty years is the allotted time most of us have to last, By the time we’re grown and matured, twenty summers have come and passed. We then get wed and raise our kids, there goes at least a score, Next, its work flat out to save enough to survive post sixty four. When we finally get to put up our feet, and take that well earned break, We can do all those things we’ve always put off, and new hobbies undertake. “How we ever found the time to go to work?” is a mystery we all ask, We’re busier now than we’ve ever been, no time in the sun to bask. The garden beckons as do unread books, so rain or shine we’re set, Medieval towns to meander through, autumn hillside trails to trek, Grandkids to mind and play their games, to their parents we return, Clubs and groups that weekly meet, new crafts to start and learn. Long dreamed of ocean cruises with tropical beaches to explore, Ahoy! Beautiful New Zealand, exotic Bali, bustling Singapore, Retirement is brilliant, it’s the best age of your life, Time to enjoy being together, savouring your love as man and wife. — Philip Wood |