My Life Is Made Up of Limericks

I retired some eight years ago

Stopping work was at first a big blow

We go to museums

Check out mausoleums

And, more or less, go with the flow 

Our number one trip is to NOLA

More refreshing than chilled Coca-Cola

The French Quarter’s grand

There’s a Zydeco band

It comes straight from a novel by Zola 

Our grandkids have reached eight years old

Each year they get more and more bold

Pokemon gives L esprit

Dogs are heaven to V

“You children are angels,” they’re told

Line dancing’s my current obsession

Each Tuesday I race to my session

Chilly Cha Cha’s the greatest

Uptown Funky, the latest

This fancy has cured my depression

My other whim’s poetry writing 

Making limericks can be so exciting

Except starting is hard

I am hardly a bard

And it take me long hours of rewriting

We go to the movies on Friday nights

Drawn like moths to the marquis lights

 We prefer our films arty

With plots that are hearty

And now and then a few vampire bites

I read the New York Times every morn

The news usually leaves me forlorn

Stories deal with Trump

How he acts like a chump

Then goes on to toot his own horn

In winter we watch more TV

It’s geared to the mind of a flea

The reality shows suck

Police dramas, sheer muck

And with Fox News, we’ll never agree

I go to the gym every week

With false dreams I’ll still reach my peak

I do the elliptical

Chanting mantras so cryptical

Even so, my physique’s like a geek

I have trouble when going to sleep

Despite counting a few thousand sheep

Ambien does do its work

Though it makes me berserk

 And they say that one’s sleep’s not so deep

Last night I tried out our iPad

Each screw-up I mumbled, “My bad!”

Google took me an hour

Then the darn thing lost power

I chucked it and thought, “Nice try, Lad” 

I am nervous getting closer to eighty

I’ve yet to see China or Haiti

Eighty seems pretty old

Life moves faster, I’m told

So we better get on with it, Matey