When a babe I only needed
A cradle to float down the stream
At twenty a canoe
Was better suited to follow my dreams
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I've never let this river of life Slow my future plans But if I live to be eighty I think I'll keep my feet on dry land Your poem dazzles with a beam of eternal hope. Lovely poem. Thanks for sharing it.10 Subhas
You are sure to live to be eighty and write many poems both serious and humorous. Liked this poem!